Unca Roy
by claudius
Summary: Roy recovers from the invasion; this time in better spirits.
1. Chapter 1

Unca Roy

Chapter 1: Ashes

By Claudius

* * *

I do not own the rights to _Full Metal Alchemist_, anime or manga. 

The main story is set during the epilogue of episode 51. After the Bradley Regime but before the 'Royai' and 'Elysia at Hughes' grave' scenes.

I suggest reading _The Night Before,_ a fanfic, before reading this story.

* * *

1911 

Roy Mustang knew it.

He heard the news; twenty phone calls and several solo visits by the father himself over the last two weeks made sure of that. Major Maes Hughes had a baby girl!

But Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang didn't reciprocate any calls or visits by his own will. It wasn't that he was uninterested with his friend's ascent to fatherhood. In fact, he predicted it. Since their days together at the Academy, Roy knew that Maes loved kids. While Mustang felt awkward and distant being around youths, Hughes blended naturally with them; he played games with the children, buying them treats, and wrestling them (always playing the loser in those innocent scuffles). He would also take freshman classmen under his wing, helping them out like a big brother. On marrying Gracia, Hughes planned for a huge family. Thus, it was no surprise that almost a year after marriage, he finally got his own kid. A daughter named Elysia. However, Mustang's interest remained solely on knowledge, at least for the moment. He did consider on visiting the new family, just to avoid being visited by-

There came voices from the hall. The door opened. "Hiya guys!" Maes Hughes' cherubic head peeked into the room. "I thought we'd make a visit." Coming through the door, the Major revealed the plural meaning of his words: in his arms was a swaddled bundle of new life.

Mustang glanced at the arrival for only a second, than looked to the report on his desk (for the first time). His comrades also proved less attentive...to their work that is. Officers Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda and Fulman surrounded the new father and the baby like bees to honey. Maes stood out from this group of uniformed people, dressed in a civilian garb of black coat and pants, over a pink shirt with all its tails hanging out. Some words of flattery were exchanged with chuckles, with Hughes blushing in pride.

"May I hold her, Major?" Major Riza Hawkeye's words sounded like a subordinate's wish to her superior.

"I didn't think this was up your alley," said Hughes with interest.

"I've held many babies before. A lot of my friends are mothers now."

Intrigued by Riza's seemingly uncharacteristic request, Maes gently placed Elysia into her arms. Any expectations of weirdness became unfounded; Riza's cradling was a smooth situation. She looked comfortable in this rare display of maternal activity, and that is saying something for the usually unfeminine Riza Hawkeye.

From this new support, Elysia Hughes was treated to excited and curious faces, like Major Jean Havoc. "Apples don't fall far from the tree, eh Hughes?" Havoc smiled with a cigarette drooping from his mouth.

Suddenly, the cigarette got decapitated in half. The rest of it fell out of Havoc's fear-opened mouth. His fear-opened eyes saw the cutter's grinning jaw and push-knife-wielding-hand very close to his own face. "No smoking in front of the baby," said Hughes, his eyes not exactly friendly.

"S-Sure," gasped Havoc.

"Hey c'mon Unca Roy!" Hughes cried with a more genuine happy face, though his words brought a cringing sensation to the unlucky namesake. "It's your turn!"

"No thanks," Roy's eyes were elsewhere. "I have some serious work to do." That was both true and false; Mustang was procrastinating from the paperwork due in an hour. He only paid attention to it when Hughes entered.

"Nonsense!" Hughes softly transferred the child back to his own arms. He now headed for the new target. "One coddle of Elysia will guarantee you hours of happy work!"

"But I don't…" Roy saw the child handed to him. Another "But" later, he was now reluctantly holding the child with his own arms. His protests were too late, though ignored was the better answer. Hughes would prefer the former excuse.

Roy's attempt at cradling Elysia was the epitome of discomfort and fear. He knew nothing about holding babies! What if he dropped her? He hoped this would be brief. Soon Hughes will come back and reclaim the kid. But the father now kept his distance, muscling all of Mustang's subordinates far away. "Ain't she gorgeous?" asked Maes, showing Havoc and the others photographs.

_Yes, she is gorgeous_, Mustang's mental compliment was dipped with sarcasm. As gorgeous as infants are, which to him meant ugly. He was no fan of the infant face, with the fuzzy head, crushed face, and weird-looking eyes. Where's the cuteness in that? Thought Roy. Is this where everyone came from? Thank goodness for growing up!

"Maes…" Roy's unease showed in his slur. "One of you…Come back this once!" He felt the child stirring. Not a good sign. "Maes!" Roy quietly exclaimed, a guarded cry before the eventual panic.

The rescue came. "Let me handle this, sir," Hawkeye relieved Mustang. His burden gone, sighs of release breathed from the Lieutenant Colonel. Returning to his desk, he made an unassuming glance upon the group scene. His familiarity was hit by a surprise study of Hughes' expressions. He was really happy. The baby's presence made Hughes' face shine bright, surpassing his usual level of optimistic happiness. It certainly went beyond the experience and knowledge Roy learned about his best friend. It was something to like. No matter the countless times Maes annoyed him, Roy depended on his friend; not just as a valuable source of information, Roy needed Maes' friendship, his humor, and his positive outlook to this dark world.

Suddenly the distance between himself and the others stood out like a sore thumb. A feeling of loneliness now impinged Mustang's stoic self. His old friend had experienced something wonderful and wanted to share it with him. Was he too hasty to escape from the celebration? When Roy thought about it, holding the baby wasn't really that bad.

But the remorse was temporary. Roy returned to his seat and his work. This will be justified in the end, he told himself, once he stood as Fuhrer. Then he would share in his best friend's family life. Maybe he could attempt to like the kid (or kids in general).

* * *

1915 

Brigadier General Roy Mustang couldn't remember anything on how he got here. Nor was he in a condition to realize for that matter. He was in darkness. There was no understanding of anything. So it was with a flowing continuity that there was no sign to predict the veil of unconsciousness lifting from him. The awareness of its end was like a thousand swords into his body. Everything stabbed with pain. Wellness could only be felt by remaining in a still position, while his left eye (why can't he see through his right eye?) viewed only a fog. But a distortion appeared in the mist. The soft and blurry hues became a face. When Roy recognized it, his eye moistened.

"M-Maes…" Roy's clogged mouth tried to speak to the dead friend before him. "I'm…sorry…"

But as Roy's limited vision improved, Maes Hughes' head faded away. To his incredulous surprise, the head changed, getting smaller, rounder. The eyes, the hair, all became different. It was not a man's face any longer. It was now a little girl. But she still resembled Maes…

"E-Elysia?"

Now Mustang knew he was alive. His attempts at movement, unfortunately, increased the pain within himself. Straining for understanding, he checked his surroundings. A small room was his location. A bed was where he lay. He was shirtless, covered with stained bandages. Bandages also affixed gauze to block out his right eye. A meaningless noise came to his ears, but it soon registered into clarity. Words of his name. New figures came before his eye. Lieutenant Hawkeye, still in male clothing, darkened with blood. She looked shocked. Mrs. Hughes, equally dirtied and concerned, pulling her daughter away from what must be a gruesome sight. And there stood Elysia, staring at him, with those eyes. _His_ eyes…

Mustang's endurance now reached its limit. The veil of darkness returned…

Consciousness finally did return to Roy Mustang, with no further incident of fainting for the subsequent weeks. Sadly, he had lesser success with healthier ways of falling unconscious. The rare moments when he did sleep brought him troubling dreams. As it was, the period of recuperation from the battles with Bradley and Archer appeared to have little effect on this patient. Roy's handsome face had become haggard; the presence of a black beard and a large eye patch failed to hide his sagging cheeks, looking like they were connected to invisible weights. Around his good eye were many circles, saturated by tears and black despair. The pupil inside stared an unemotional blankness, seeing other things besides this room. His slender form, covered by pajamas, had lessened to an unhealthy thin weight.

On the most recent morning, Riza Hawkeye entered the room, carrying a tray of breakfast. With his one eye, Roy tiredly looked to her. Wearing no uniform or suit, Riza instead was in a blouse and miniskirt. Her long blond hair glistened like a waterfall down to her shoulders. This departure from conservative clothing would give her coworkers shock of her true attractiveness as a woman. But this attention was missing in Mustang, as was the desire to try.

Riza placed the tray on Roy's lap. "Eat." Her words were orderly, impassionate. But actions speak louder than words. She had been near Roy's side throughout this dire period of survival. Not even the aid of a nurse (who was absent today) kept her away from being assistant to his recovery.

Mustang slowly picked up the breakfast, and ate. Despite her cold look, Riza betrayed pleasure. Today was a success in giving the patient food; on earlier days, the General left the food trays untouched or lying scattered on the floor. But he ate today. Unfortunately, there still remained no comments from the patient.

Breakfast finished, Riza picked up the tray and left the room. Roy lay back down upon the pillow. His body needed comfort, and could receive it from rest and relaxation. His mind and heart, however, proved more resilient to such kind care. For weeks this stubborn alliance of intelligence and emotion rampaged his condition, bearing memories and thoughts more agonizing than Bradley's sword or Archer's bullets. The present date gave the alliance an advantage: Maes Hughes would have turned thirty-one today.

Lying on the bed, with no turn of the head, Mustang's eye headed to a new attention. Voices came from the other room in his apartment. Was it his subordinates, ready to perform some admirable but futile method to raise his spirits? The door opened. Mustang dumbly turned his head to the new guests. Gracia Hughes and her four-year-old daughter Elysia entered the room. Sciezska followed them, looking very apologetic. Mustang took the first two with discomfort. Nevertheless, he was indebted to Maes' widow. She granted him sanctuary after the assassination, treating his wounds and saving his life. Still, the best Roy could give to the visitors was a tired greeting. "Hello."

"I have a pie!" Gracia warmly greeted the patient with her wrapped present. Elysia lacked her mother's manners. She stayed in the background. When Gracia went into the other room, daughter quickly followed.

Sciezska remained, but the loss of the company increased the awkward atmosphere created by her meeting with the Colonel. She tried to make the best of it. "Um, are you comfortable?" Sciezska was artificially chipper. Not that her feelings weren't genuine. She was so sorry for her previous actions. She had accused Mustang of his apparent coldness over Hughes' death. But the miserable person on the bed was a complete opposite to her previous description. In fact, his grief showed how naïve she was to the idea of mourning a loved one. She wanted to help him return to his 'cold' self.

But Sciezska knew her limitations. "Um, I think I hear Lieutenant Hawkeye calling my name…Get better." She darted out of the room.

Roy was no fool. He knew Sciezska wasn't able to keep a good poker face over his pitiful condition. No one could. There was no beauty in ashes.

* * *

In the other room, the women guests of Mustang's apartment sat at a table in the small kitchen. Elysia played alone in the bathroom. 

"Still no improvement?" Sciezska asked, hoping her experience with the General was unique.

Riza's face was calm, though her eyes anything but. "There's nothing wrong physically with him. The General will recover his full strength in time. But that's all moot where his feelings are concerned."

Sciezska made a quick glance at Gracia. The widow appeared understanding, giving the bookworm allowance to speak freely. "About General Hughes?"

Riza nodded. "It has been months, but the General hasn't mourned his death until now. He held back his personal grief out of their promise to become the Fuhrer. But that's now out of the question with the recent turn of events." Riza paused. She could not completely hide her concern over Roy's turmoil from either woman. "I thought he could find some peace with the present changes in Central, but he's worse."

Sciezska did her best to be comforting. "I've read stories about revenge never satisfy…" She stopped her words, hiding little of her distress to revise. "Oh nothing!"

"It's alright, Sciezska," Gracia's kind face fell a little. "When Miss Hawkeye took Roy to my place to recover, she told me everything. About Bradley, and what he did." She instantly stood up and walked to the cupboard. Sciezska was not reassured.

Riza went to a different subject. "And how is Elysia?"

"She's been really depressed these last few weeks," Gracia had her back to the women, working on some culinary matters. "Not that she hasn't been sad before, but this is different. She's beginning to accept her father's death."

Riza was puzzled. "Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

"If it means moving on with her life, yes." Gracia sadly explained. "But I'm afraid Elysia hasn't reached that point yet. Before, she constantly went through denial, always sinking back to the reality. Now she's fully embracing the reality, as hard as that is. Only she's scared about taking the step to leave this behind her."

"Give her some time," said Riza.

Gracia knew that advice well, but she was really unsure of it. Sciezska added proof to the child's woe. "Elysia's been withdrawing herself from everything. She's not even playing with her friends anymore."

"Did you know," a worried Gracia continued, "she hasn't really cried yet? Not at the funeral, not afterwards. Oh, she gets emotional, whining about how unfair things are, but I haven't seen any tears from her yet."

Riza faced this news with coldness. It was not that she was unmoved. Rather, she was unsurprised, as if she expected it with an optimism that things will get better. Something was formulating within her mind. "I'm sorry if I had to invite you here, Gracia. Especially on this day."

"I'm happy to come. Maes cared about Roy; I want to follow my late husband's wishes."

"Even though General Mustang rarely visited you?" Sciezska made a thoughtless addition before shrugging.

"Before we married, Maes and I saw Roy constantly," Gracia corrected. "But after that, he rarely came by our house. The last time was a few weeks ago, and it was only at the door."

"The General was very busy back then," explained Riza. "But General Hughes kept him posted about everything in his family life. Not a day went by where the General didn't receive a call from him. Not that he liked it; General Mustang wished he could transfer his Alchemy through the phone lines," Riza made a smile with that last line.

Gracia was not blind to this friendship. "Maes hoped that Roy would spend some time with Elysia. Maes even made him Elysia's guardian in case he and I…" Gracia went silent before the finish. Her endurance on this sensitive matter had reached its limit. But Riza knew the widow was no weakling. During that dark night when Roy's life hung by a thread, as Riza came apart, Gracia provided the fortitude.

While Mrs. Hughes continued making tea, Riza and Sciezska met eye-to-eye.

* * *

"I have to go to Central to see about the extension of my leave of absence, sir," Riza calmly informed the patient as she put on her coat. "Since this is Nurse Clarke's day off, Mrs. Hughes will see to your needs." 

If Mustang felt a need to protest to Hawkeye's absence, it didn't escape his mouth as she left the bedroom door. Just as long as Gracia did little except feed him, then he was content. He wanted the solitude. It seemed better to deal with his problems alone, even if it was a losing battle. His strategic mind hadn't figured that the grief would hurt this much. He was used to the ending of life, or so he thought. But Death was like a stranger: No experience could dull its sharp approach or its despairing influence.

Not quite the happy ending for this protagonist. In stories, the success of defeating the menace for the sake of others led to peace for the hero. But Roy lacked such a conclusion after destroying his menace. He remembered the experience: A viewer would think it the exciting climax to an epic story, the final battle between good and evil. Against hopeless odds, the Flame Alchemist fought the immortal Fuhrer King Bradley. But the Homunculus' inevitable victory was stolen by the Alchemist, via the skull that proved Bradley's weakness. Roy's memory preserved his every thought and action of that moment. Clutching the skull, drawing the Fire Alchemy symbol on his wrist, the Alchemist's mind flickered images of his friend, and the hated monster that took his life.

"How many times must I kill you before you die?" Roy viciously condemned his victim. With all his furious strength, he drew the surrounding flames upon Bradley. The evil man was destroyed. The moment of glory? It wasn't there. Roy expected something for his victory. A sense of fulfillment. But nothing materialized as he saw Bradley's remains as a pool of blood. Nor when he boiled that pool. Maes Hughes was still dead. Nothing Roy did would change that. He wanted satisfaction. Instead he felt exhaustion. Disappointment. Loneliness.

Roy had failed him again. His cause wasn't noble, but petty vengeance. Forget the justice demanded on Bradley for his insane regime of meaningless destruction! Forget the thousands of lives lost by those meaningless wars! Only one life mattered in Roy's final decision to throw away everything he has worked for these six years: The friend who helped him in those years, the human rock to his near-impossible dream of becoming Fuhrer and creating a better world. The man his superior murdered. But didn't he have a hand in that as well? After all, his dream sent Hughes to his doom, to that apparently safe position which was in fact a death trap from day one.

In the present, Mustang stiffened under the inner recriminations of the past. Guilt had forced him to atone for his blind error. But the atonement meant sinking to the killer's level. An irony; Maes wanted Roy to become a better man, one least likely to be motivated by pointless revenge. But in the end, he chucked all those civilized ideals for Hughes. Such an apology was not acceptable. How can it be? In life and in death, Roy Mustang betrayed Maes Hughes.

Roy didn't need this ethical decline to punish him. His grief was enough. He fought it the previous months before the coup, refusing to surrender to its dominating grip. It was amazing how stable his fortitude was. But defeat was inevitable, and unforgiving for the loser. The tears he made on that first day he mourned! Roy bitterly remembered. Even though he never wept afterwards, the pain lingered on to exact its toll.

Roy saw an invisible future before him. What could he do now? The power of the country was now in the Parliament. The Fuhrership had been nullified. And for what purpose should he even try to do something? For the sake of what he accomplished? He had nothing but a record for killing people. There was no pride in that, even with the monsters on that list. And then Roy suddenly thought about his recruiting Edward Elric. That kid was gone now. At least that punk did something meaningful, if the knowledge of a human Alphonse Elric was true. A loathing smile came to Roy's lips. The medication must be really at work now. Admitting any achievement by that punk was an anathema to him, but Roy saw no more reason to carry on his denial. Its loss revealed the strong respect he always had for Edward. The Full Metal Alchemist was the type of person Mustang should have been when he first earned his State Alchemist diploma: The military dog with a weak leash. Someone who helped people, unwilling to take shit from anyone, no matter the authority. Loyal to no one but himself and those he cared about. Edward saved his brother. Roy lost his.

Little good done in his past, Mustang cynically wrote in his mind, no good in his future. Every day saw his life a chore. Maes' death had left a mortal wound. Not in his injuries. The loss of an eye was nothing compared to the gangrenous scars in his heart. Grief festered inside it, rendering everything in him a waste. Hope, perseverance, optimism. All gone. Roy Mustang was dead. A burnt-out ruin was what remained…

A bark in the hall ended Roy's soliloquy. Did Riza leave that stupid dog here? His one-eyed search led to the half-closed bedroom door. In the small hallway, Elysia appeared to be playing with Black Hayate. _Appearing_ was a strong word. She was just standing there beside the animal with no contact, as if a barrier separated them. And the child didn't want to break through it.

His limited vision notwithstanding, Mustang understood Elysia's behavior. The child was creating defenses. Hurt by a person she loved, she was growing barriers around her. Go for it kiddo, Roy mentally gave his blessing. Create protection from any future sorrow, wary to any persons or events capable of hurting you…

_Roy…my son, your mother is…_

_Kid, there's been a training accident. Your dad's…_

Bad things happen. Can't expect a happy life. People can't guarantee anything for you, not even their lives.

_How sad. Such an illustrious family, and not many family members left..._

_My boy. Your father and I were good friends. Your uncle is too busy right now to take you in. Until he does, you can stay at my house…_

Keep away from people. It's yourself you have to protect. Keep your heart closed to them.

_Roy, here is my son…_

_Hiya, my name's Maes…!_

Because if you fail, if you don't keep your heart closed, you're only setting yourself up for more misery. It will come to haunt you someday.

_Sara, run!_

_Dear no! No! Winry…! _

It will kill you…

_Colonel, I have grim news. It's about Lieutenant Colonel Hughes…_

Mustang tensed himself, his mind still bearing out unheard advice to the girl in the hallway. That's what you do kid, Mustang commanded in thought, the images of his mind reaching a deviation. That's what life should be, protecting oneself from pain. For the failures…well, he's honest proof.

Disagreement came into the patient, attacking the previous advice. Great advice, Roy questioned himself in sarcasm. Does Elysia really deserve to isolate herself so emotionally?

Roy hesitated his resolve for a second. Sorry, kiddo. He was not in the consoling mood. Not that he was good at it before. He was the one who needed the consoling now.

But that didn't change the fact that the kid was alone, missing someone she loved…

But she wasn't alone. Elysia still has her mother, and she has 'sisters' like Scieszka and Winry. They could handle her grief better than he ever could. He didn't like kids…But Elysia needs more than just a mother and sisters. She needs a male parent. Perhaps someone who knew her father closely…

_Stop it!_ This mental conflict had reached an irritating degree. Mustang was about ready to burst. Screw the child! Hasn't he suffered enough?

Hasn't she?

The inner struggle was interrupted by a thumping noise. But a calm reaction after such a battle of wits could not happen. A flame was smoldering. "What was that?" Mustang finally exploded with sound. He could see nothing from the opened door. A fast move to find out was impossible by his weak legs and the precarious stitches on his body.

"What happened!" Mustang cried like the military official he was. He grabbed the cane, banging it on the wall. "What's happened!"

"It's all right," Gracia's voice cried from the other room.

Mustang was in no mood. "That didn't sound like nothing!" he yelled. He thought back to the possible cause. It had to be Elysia. Straining himself to see as best he could of the hallway, Roy spotted papers on the floor in the hall. _Not papers._ He felt like some wound had been ripped open. The 'that' wasn't a lamp or table piece, but a box. A box from the closet. A certain box he knew. The inner fire flickered into a blaze. Mustang's hand squeezed the cane tightly, ready to use it. That little brat…

"Elysia come here!" Mustang hollered like a maniac.

"I'm sorry!" cried Elysia's voice from the other room. She sounded like a frightened girl about to be executed.

Mustang's tempestuous face sank, its fire extinguished. Saner thoughts came, with new critiques. Who was being the real brat here? Who really suffered worse? A depressed sensation caused the warrior to drop the cane. He failed again. But he met it with a tired smile, accepting it like a wise general. Okay, so what could he do to make things right?

An idea came. Roy lowered his voice to a more sane tone. "Bring whatever she dropped in here!"

There was silence after that order. Eventually, mother and daughter walked into the room. Gracia, who carried the box, gave a look of knowledge of its contents. Elsyia was in back, grabbing nervously onto her mother's skirt. Her sad face did justice to the cry she made before. But there were no tears in her eyes.

"Elysia!" Roy sternly demanded. "Bring the box to me."

Gracia spoke for her daughter. "I'll do it…"

"No!" Roy sounded his refusal quite clearly. "She will do this."

Elysia obeyed with hesitation, uneasily taking the box from her mother's hands. Slowly, she walked over to the bed.

Mustang peered over the box. Elysia shivered a little. The bearded, one-eyed man looked like he wanted to eat her. This fright grew as he took a photograph out. "Elysia," those black eyes stared with a demanding voice, "look at this."

The girl uneasily did as commanded. Seeing it in her hand, Elysia became curious by the photograph. The picture was of two boys. One was a large fat boy who was smiling. Did she see this boy before? The other was a thinner boy who did not smile. He looked familiar too.

Mustang's voice showed his awareness of Elysia's questioning watch. "That's a picture of me and your daddy."

Elysia's eyes portrayed the strike of realization. Perhaps a little too hard a stroke. "Daddy?" She squealed.

Gracia knelt beside the girl, looking at the picture with equal interest.

"Your father was a very chubby kid when he was little," Roy's voice tried to sound caring. "He slimmed down by the time he reached military school."

Elysia's eyes dug into the other photos in the box. A lot of these pictures were of her! "Where'd ya get all these?"

"Your daddy always called me for whatever new and special thing you did. He also mailed me copies of every picture he took of you. I put them all in this box, waiting for the time to collect them." That was Mustang's words. Actually, months before he had hidden this collection and his own private collection away. Later, he thought of destroying all.

* * *

The three spent the hour arranging the pictures. Elysia sat on her mother's lap, getting to look at the photographs first. Gracia gave her daughter support with her own knowledge of some of the pictures. Feeling Elysia's body, the mother detected from her vibrations of discomfort. As interested she is, Elysia must be having a hard time, looking back on these remembrances. Gracia held on for the worse. Her daughter wasn't the only nervous one. Roy looked just as reluctant. He tensed every time he grabbed into the box, as if every picture was a fresh scar. 

"You were a year and two months old in this one," said Roy.

"Actually, it was a year and one month," Gracia corrected. "Maes didn't have the time to develop the film until later."

Elysia paid little attention to the dates. She was consumed with the sights. Some of these pictures were like the ones at home. But soon, she was seeing pictures of her father without a beard. There were a lot of those pictures too. Too many pictures. Too many daddys…

"And this one…" Roy's description went unfinished when he looked away from the photographs. Lines of tears streaked on Elysia's face. Mustang paused at this unknown side of her before. Of the little he had seen of Elysia, she had never cried once. Not even at her father's funeral. Gracia was surprised by this as well.

It was too easy to predict the outcome. Elysia suddenly turned to her mother's chest. She squeezed her coat, bellowed out a horrible cry. _"I miss daddy, mommy! I miss 'im! I miss daddy!"_

Gracia embraced her child securely, doing her utmost to ease her pain.

And Mustang watched all of this. There was an emotional distance keeping himself from the mother and child. But the habit of detachment had lost much of its potent strength. Such hurt. For a father who will not be there to see his daughter educated, never witness her growth to womanhood, completely unable to watch her marry and become a parent. A death Roy Mustang would never forget, or forgive himself for.

But defense still had its influence. Mustang's body slackened from this kindred attraction. His heart was closed. It was too late now.

_Yeah, Roy. It's too late for me…_

Roy remembered those words; the voice from someone he met only in his dreams. He had almost forgotten them, but the words were presently as vivid and real as what he saw and heard now. He stared at his hand. It brought nothing but destruction to the innocent and the guilty.

But it's not too late for you… 

Was the chance that it can help gone as well?

…_and it's not too late for her._

But, he…

All reluctant thoughts snapped by one meaning: Help her! 

His face crushing with sorrow, Roy lifted his arm very slowly. His twitching hand lurked closer to the child. He felt like everything blocked his way, but he would…overcome it. He touched the girl's shoulder. "Don't cry…" His words stumbled. "It'll be all right!"

Elysia's miserable face turned to the hand on her shoulder. Her wet face gave puzzlement. "You miss daddy too?"

Roy didn't answer. But his sad face showed enough for even a young child like Elysia to understand. She clutched his hand, placing her sad cheek upon it for comfort. That did it for the General. Such a small hand, he thought. Not large enough for two of his fingers. But he was too weak to break free. With his free hand, he covered his face. It was raining again…

Gracia moved herself and child onto the bed. She now laid a hand around Mustang's cringing shoulders. The woman bore the sobs of man and child to her comforting embrace. She started to cry too.

* * *

Hidden in the other room, Sciezska spied this emotional moment. A feeling of joining them was first in her thoughts, but restraint moved her away from the door, away from the bedroom, and the three inside it. 

"Is it happening?' said a voice from the front door of the apartment. Black Hayate ran toward it.

Sciezska nodded with remorse. "I wish we didn't resort to tricks."

"So says the girl who spied on Miss Douglas, and lived to tell about it," said the voice, its owner presenting herself to Sciezska.

"Touche, Miss Hawkeye," responded Sciezska. "Do you think this'll work?"

Patting Black Hayate, Riza sighed pleasantly. "General Roy Mustang may be a very decisive man in military and administration, but he can be very reluctant in personal things like this. In that case, you have to force him into things he wants to do."

Sciezska repeated that last sentence in her head. Apply force like placing that box of pictures somewhere Elysia can get to it? She felt naughty. "He sounded angry," she nervously added. "What if he hurt her?"

"He wouldn't," Riza was resolute in her belief. "The General knows too well never to harm someone for no reason."

The sobbing from the other room became more attractive to Sciezska's ears and sympathy. "Do you think we should…?"

"No," Riza strongly pressed her opinion. "This is a moment that can only be shared by those three. Right now, the General needs Elysia, and vice versa. Perhaps together, they might be able to move on with their loss."

Sciezska understood. A smile lifted the bookworm's lips. It's fitting, she realized. The mourning of Brigadier General Maes Hughes being shared by the three people he loved most.

* * *

Author notes: 

As I read through some post-series fanfics concerning Roy, I found that a lot of them have a lack of emphasis to Hughes. The character only gets mentioned once or twice, with the focus being Roy, not much the worse, declaring his love for Riza, etc. That makes no sense; Hughes was Roy's best friend. His murder pressed Mustang to turn against the government. The loss would have to be a major burden for Roy during his recovery, especially since the Alchemist did not properly mourn the character's death (and I doubt Pride's destruction would bring a satisfying conclusion to the character, unlike the reader). I feel this fanfic should be an exception.

Next time: Roy takes Elysia to the Fair.


	2. Fun

Unca Roy

Chapter 2: Fun

By claudius

I do not own the copyright to Full Metal Alchemist.

* * *

The future ordeal brought a grimace to his face, and an ache to his floor-stuck feet. True, it was a short path awaiting him. But his condition made it look like a burdensome mile. He had reservations about crossing it, remembering the other attempts before this one. Time to make it again. His hands squeezed securely upon the rails. His feet's effort to move started as one foot lifted from the floor, planting itself a few inches further. The second foot made a small hop after the other. The first foot again lifted from the floor, stamping right down. The other foot followed. This was the constant ritual, with lifting his feet more painful than dragging them. The strain will reach its climax. Suddenly, one ankle twisted off its place. He knew what was going to happen: the foundation would break and send everything crashing, ending the exercise until another day. The expectation made the patient groan in rebellion. Not this time! All energy was forced on the foot that remained planted. Its support proved great, giving the failed foot strength to regain its step. Back on his two feet again, the patient continued on his way.

Eventually, the legs reached the end of this walk of hardship. The patient released the power of his arms from their perch, setting him to kneel. A sweating Roy Mustang bore a trembling smile over his achievement. The walking therapy had succeeded. Now he could walk without a wheelchair or crutches. Only a cane will suffice, until he gets rid of that as well. That is good. He had fulfilled his goal. Very early for the time he promised to _her_.

* * *

Elysia sat on a tall chair; her hands entwined together with legs dangled from the seat. She calmly waited to be picked up for the carnival. This behavior looked extraordinary for a child of her age. The sad truth is that she wasn't impatient for the future, nor was she excited either. In fact, Elysia didn't know if she wanted to go!

The fault was not in some dislike for carnivals. Elysia cherished the last time. The memory gave her a fantasy of happiness. On that day, Daddy was so excited about taking her, maybe even more than she. But Elysia believed in her father; whatever he thought was really good had to be _really _good.

And he was right! The place was a rainbow of lights, full of surprises and shows of games, food, and toys. The place was so big that she was afraid she wouldn't get to see everything that day. Fortunately, daddy promised to take her everywhere. He carried her upon his back and did the walking for the two of them. The effort made Elysia wonder if daddy was going to get tired and fall asleep, but he never showed it. Daddy was very strong and very fast.

The fair had fun rides, like the carousel with horses that went around and around. Elysia's horse was a shiny brown one with a horn on its head. Daddy called it a Unicorn (he was so smart!). Another was a great wheel that took her and Daddy around and around, but this time up and down. Then there were the games. Some of them were about throwing and hitting stuff (which she wasn't allowed to do at home). Daddy entered every one. These games led to a lot of losers, but Daddy was not one of them. He won every game. One game he was really good at was throwing darts at balloons on a wall. Daddy always hit a balloon. Elysia could remember her father's amazing power; he could look at her without seeing the target, and still hit the balloon perfectly. Elysia would clap her hands delightfully, not only on how great her daddy's throwing was, but in the gifts he got her for winning: Balloons, stuffed animals, whistles, toys, and everything else. Her daddy had his arms full carrying the presents. And whenever he had the chance, Elysia saw Daddy taking pictures of her, saying that she looked cute here, and there, and there.

The end of the carnival was hard to remember though. That was nighttime, when Elysia got sleepy. Daddy said they had fireworks in the sky that night, but she had no idea. The only thing in her memories of that time was being in a car. She lied on her daddy's knee, feeling his big hand rubbing softly on her hair. But she did remember making daddy promise to take her back next year.

The memory evaporated into reality, along with the happiness. Another carnival had come. Only Daddy wasn't with Elysia anymore. He was gone now.

That knowledge was very hard on the young child. Elysia had come to that sad truth of this absence being forever. She didn't like it all. Being without Daddy was like there being rain everyday. No more fun, no more friends, and no more parties for the rest of her life. It wasn't fair! Elysia put that statement through a lot of use. What did daddy do to go away? Nothing! What did she do to make this happen? Elysia couldn't give the same answer to that question.

With the promise broken, Elysia thought there would be no more trips to the carnival ever again. To her surprise, someone was going to take her. His name was Roy, and he was a friend of her Daddy's. Elysia knew him a little. Most of the time he existed in pictures (the ones that showed Daddy without a beard on his chin). When she did meet him in person, she got frightened. Roy wasn't like daddy; he didn't smile a lot, usually looking unhappy. He was kinda scary. But, as Elysia remembered weeks ago, Roy missed Daddy too. But the truth of that encounter collided with her feelings. Roy was still scary.

Elysia's heart jumped at a knock coming from the door. She saw her mommy go to the door. Mommy's words, "Hello Roy!" made her more nervous.

Roy entered the door slowly, using a cane to keep him up. He didn't have a beard anymore, which showed more of his attempted smile. "Hi, kiddo. I'm taking you out."

* * *

Roy Mustang had fought some incredible battles, surviving through the most desperate trials with the smallest of chances. Planning a coup against the Homunculus monsters, one of them being the Fuhrer King: that he could handle...barely. But taking Elysia out to the carnival: That was absolute insanity! Roy knew how to order people into battle or assignments, standing by them if need be. He knew nothing about handling a four-year-old child. The chances of disaster were high. Roy should have sent Riza or Havoc or someone else to go in his place. Let them take the daughter of Maes Hughes…

The past month was a mixed bag for the Brigadier General. Life after that encounter with Elysia saw progress in his spirits, though he was not entirely free of depression. Whenever the despair lurked, it attacked Roy with full force. The misery bit hard into his memory of Elysia's late father, corrupting it into a memory of pain. Endurance was not always constant. In one weak moment, Roy actually wished he never met Maes Hughes! The foolish desire was soon rescinded; Roy would never think up such a horrible thing ever again. Pain or no, knowing his best friend was the most important thing in his life. And for the sake of that importance, Maes' only child was now his attention.

Still, that new attention brought doubt to Roy; he wondered about the quality of his mental health when he agreed to this action of today. It all happened weeks ago, when Roy's remaining eye spotted a newspaper article about the future carnival. He remembered Maes giving him a detailed account about last year's carnival (a conversation which took up most of his 'breaks' from work). During one of his peaceful moments of recovery, Gracia and Elysia made another visit to his apartment. Roy secretly asked the mother about the upcoming event. Gracia mentioned that she was uncertain about Elysia going there. All of the family friends were either too busy or had their own children to take. She thought about getting Sciezska, which made Roy respond.

"I'll take her," Roy spoke the madness calmly without a second thought (that is, he never came to the second thought on _that day_). Despite Gracia's misgivings about his current condition, Roy was determined to be in good shape. So, a miraculous week was spent getting his legs back into walking strength. The constant failures and his struggle with Maes' memory proved daunting, but Roy pulled through.

Only now, a half hour before the destined rendezvous, did such a determined resolve choose the perfect time to vanish. Roy felt his perseverance crash inside him, promising future disaster for Elysia. He maintained this dread on the car ride to the Hughes place. He sat erect with his cane upright and ready. The bumps and turns brought aches. Medically speaking, he shouldn't be doing something like this. His wounds were healing, but not fully yet. The long time in bed had brought weakness to his usually strong body. But a promise was made, the expected date had arrived, and Roy never backed out of any vows he made to any familiar (officials of rank were a different manner).

Mustang looked at his clothing. He wore a white dress shirt, blue jacket and slacks. He chafed in this civilian garb. Anything beside his uniform was uncomfortable. However, the sight of a military suit might prove too intimidating to the girl (worse, it could be too much a reminder of her father). Also, he had not worn anything military since that dusk before the Bradley assassination. Did he still have a right to wear such garb now?

At least everything from the neck up almost looked well. Roy caressed his clean-shaven chin. He had shaven the beard off weeks ago, but it still felt weird feeling his jaw skin again. The only thing he really could do nothing about was this black eye patch. He hoped it didn't impinge his good looks too much.

Funny, that he could entertain such trivial thoughts again.

Roy looked out at the sky. The morning weather was full of gray skies and shrill, constant rain. It was a big omen of the trip's cancellation. Fortunately (or unfortunately), by noon the clouds were gone and the sun bright.

Roy looked to the driver beside him, the uniformed Riza Hawkeye. It was surprising to see her return to unfeminine clothing. Unlike himself, seeing Riza in anything beside a uniform was hardly uncomfortable. But Mustang's present thoughts on her were not entirely cosmetic. He suddenly remembered an act of treason Riza made to him. Before he entered Bradley's mansion, he ordered Riza to look after Elysia. She disobeyed. What was her excuse? As she told Roy later, since they were in rebellion, Mustang was no longer her superior; thus, he lost the authority to tell her what to do (there was good reason to doubt this reason; Riza, after all, perfectly followed his plan to inform Bradley of his intentions).

"Lieutenant," Mustang spoke while gazing at the window. "Am I making a mistake?"

"You regret your promise?" Said the impassionate driver.

"No, but there must be something better I can do for her."

"This will be fun for her, Colonel," Riza's words were cool in tone.

_Fun_. That was an ancient word to Mustang. Its presence had not been around him since the academy days. He was too adult for fun. "I'm not comfortable with children. I'll probably bore her."

"You may have good reasons not to do this, Colonel," Riza stated. "But are they good enough for you?"

Roy found no answer. He did note the Lieutenant was acting very different though.

* * *

Mustang's view of Hawkeye was an understatement compared to her own thoughts of him. She noted a good difference in Roy in these months. There was a new spark in the man. It gave her a mixture of feelings. True, she was ecstatic to see the General in better spirits. Oh, that recent day they went to the vendors market together, to celebrate his restored walking abilities. A beautiful memory. But the loss of this concern did mean she had to deal with his physical problems. A restoration of spirit was more attainable than a lost eye. The permanent legacy of Archer's attack, given when Roy was free of her protection. To Riza, Roy's eye patch expressed that failure like a sore thumb.

But an easing layer had come against this trouble. Roy noticed her sadness over her failure. His reply? _It's not a perfect world, but it tries for us. That's what makes it so beautiful._ And what a metaphor to those words! Riza didn't know how to respond to such loving acclaim back then. Perhaps she would respond soon. But not today. It was Elysia who needed Roy's loving consolation right now.

* * *

The car stopped at its destination. Roy opened the door, and limped out. Riza watched this with tensing sympathy but no supporting action. He had to do this by himself.

Roy reached the door of the Hughes women's home. His fist hovered in hesitance before the wood, then banged on it. Here goes nothing. Gracia opened the door. After her greeting, Roy entered the room. There sat Elysia on the chair. Her expression showed the challenge.

After stating his intentions, Roy did his best to be flattering. "Hey kiddo, you look pretty."

Elysia didn't reply by word. She bowed to the General, then walked to outside to the car. Passively, Roy followed. So far, so bad.

The car ride was as smooth as the greeting. Roy sat at the back with Elysia, at separate sides. At her side of the car, she kept very quiet. There was nothing rude in her behavior, all of it polite silence. Distant to his side, Roy's happy looks were only surface deep.

There were failed attempts to connect. Elysia turned to Roy. Then she turned her head back forward. Roy looked at Elysia. He looked forward. Elysia turned again. Her mouth opened, then closed. A few minutes passed. She did it again, with words, with hesitance. "H-Have you been there before?…the carnival?"

"Not since I was little," Roy exploded in response. He hoped for more in this exchange. But Elysia responded no longer. That was it for the conversations. It would be a quiet trip.

Roy calmed down to the disappointment. He should've known better. Being with kids was never his strong point. In retrospect, it was probably because he wasn't one himself. His parents' early death forced Roy to grow up fast, isolating him from much of his child peers. Only Maes was able to accept him this way, enough to break through his defenses. Roy didn't resent the immaturity of his friend (even though Maes was actually a year older). In fact, it was those semester break vacations with the Hughes family that Roy actually enjoyed a semblance of childhood. But the harm had made its work. As a teenager, then as an adult, Roy lacked the ability to connect with children. The best he could do was compliment said child, than move away to deal with the parents or peer. It was true that a difference was being made with Elysia. But was it truly a change, or was he trying too hard to assume one existed?

Roy got outside of the car first. He was at Elysia's side, watching her own approach. He expected Riza to join them. She drove away. The artificial state of Roy's smile over this insulting abandonment was never so plain.

With no one behind them now, man and child looked to the fair awaiting them. The carnival was flooded with the public. There were so many people. This would not be a lonely occasion. But Elysia fought against the inviting atmosphere. She remembered her surprise of the place before, with her father. It had dulled since then, and she now spotted new things not really noticed before. There were a lot of kids, with their dads. The symbolism was too strong; the girl hid her sad face from her elder's view. Her apprehensions could only be felt by the squeezing her hand gave Roy's.

Roy felt sympathy for the girl. As hard as this was going to be for him, the burden was just as monumental to Elysia. "Where did your father take you first?" He attempted to break the ice.

Elysia's hand eased a little. She slowly pulled Roy like a mule.

* * *

The first ride they went to was the Ferris Wheel. Aboard one car, the two were thrown in a rotation of lifts and lows. It was very fun for the other passengers. Too bad the enjoyment was missing in the car for these two. Roy felt the aching pressure the ride gave his body. It didn't help that he had nothing to usurp this attention. Elysia watched her surroundings move away passively. It was another silent trip, at first. "You knew my daddy?" Elysia asked.

Roy nodded to the redundant question.

The girl had another question. "Why didn' I see ya a lot?"

Roy paused.

"Daddy gave ya all those pictures of me." Elysia continued. "An' he had these pictures of ya. So why didn't I see ya a lot? Did ya an' daddy have a fight?"

Roy looked for a reasonable answer. The child was thinking a lot about him. "I was away at another city. I was busy with my work."

"What's that?" She asked.

"Writing reports, making investigations, watching over other alchemists." Roy edited his resume with a pulse of dread. Better avoid the truth, like killing people and kissing a lot of filthy murderer ass.

Fortunately Elysia failed to detect the alterations. Not that her words were free of accusatory overtones. "Why didn'cha see me?"

Roy tensed with irritation. This was getting a little too much to endure. It felt like Elysia was judging how much a lousy friend he was to her father. "Because…I had my work to do."

Elysia became sadder. "Daddy did that too."

Roy noticed that. "I'm sorry that I didn't visit you back then." He tried to apologize with an easy tone. "There is a lot that I'm sorry for."

The wheel had ended its rotation, returning them to the floor. The escape from the ride did not end Elysia's questions. "When did'cha first meet me?"

That one Roy could answer. "I remember meeting you as a baby. Your father came into my office one day and showed you to me and my subordinates."

A glisten of light came to Elysia's dim face. "Did you like me when I was a baby?"

Again Roy had walked into another obstacle. "I held you in my arms." That much was true. A better message then the less happy truth of his 'ugly baby' views. If conviction didn't work, he could rely on decoys. "Riza also held you in her arms."

Elysia's face remained on that small glow. "I like Riza."

"I do…" Roy veered off his words in a striking glare. The two had come to a booth featuring people with special skills. One swallowed a sword. Another had snakes around her body without fear. The third one had Roy's glance. A fire conjurer.

Roy automatically looked to his hand. It had not summoned fire since destroying Bradley. Attempts to conjure flames again led him to seeing things in his mind. Dead people.

* * *

After an hour, Roy's favorite ride was a bench. Sitting down created such a relief to his leaden body. The two balloons, the stuffed animals, and small toys gathered on the bench were his battle trophies for endurance. Elysia had become a formidable adversary. As she sat beside him, Roy studied the opponent's tactics. The shops revealed the child's art of pickiness, the sudden changes in her choice-making, not to mention the buyer's remorse: one moment she would be uncertain about getting a doll or balloon. She then made her decision, but her decisiveness lasted a minute. Also not forgotten was her ability to disappear from his sight. His pride as a leader was getting some blows by a girl of four.

But the girl showed no smug signs of victory. It could help if she showed some happiness for his efforts, but Elysia still kept the glum face. It affected the General in a bad way. He was unsure why. His guilt over her overall sadness, though a doubtless factor, was not a completely satisfying answer. Perhaps her gloomy mood was too much a parallel to his feelings. Or was it an intense betrayal of memory, as her sad face contradicted all the cherubic photos Mustang had of her? Whatever the reason, a sad Elysia bothered him immensely.

The girl sprang up and pulled his arm. She wanted more? Evidently she was the one in charge. It was her choice where to go: if that destination was at the other side of the carnival, Mustang had to take her. If she changed her mind on route, her word was still law.

And Elysia flaunted her authority. "C'mon!" She cried, pulling Roy's arm with a yank.

With a small sigh, Roy was back on his feet, protesting mentally. As he scooped up the toys and balloons, newfound praise for his dead friend materialized. How was Maes able to do this and still do all that work? Forget juggling! If I were in his late friend's shoes, Roy thought, than I would have told myself to take a hike and concentrate everything to childraising…

Yes…that would have served Maes much better.

Roy's thought broke by a tug on his hand. "Y-Yes?"

"I gotta go to the bathroom," Elysia fidgeted.

Roy was calm to this new challenge…from the outside. Inside him was bedlam; although this interruption broke his somber thoughts, it was a cure as bad as the disease. Dammit! Roy cursed himself for lacking the anticipation for this situation. Now he needed all his military quick-thinking-know-how to create a strategy for getting Elysia into the female lavatory. Going with her was definitely not an option (despite the advantages). As he drew the girl to the destination, Roy pressured himself to find the solution. Perhaps he could take her to the men's room? No, you fool! Did all his abilities atrophy since the assassination?

Elysia showed her discomfort, wiggling in impatience. "Mr. Roy…"

"I hear you!" Roy was losing patience. Don't worry, kiddo, he thought. I'll think of something!

Then came words from heaven. "Can I help, General sir?" said a female voice that materialized the solution.

Roy Mustang turned to see Sciezska smiling at him. The nervous feeling of rescue and relief, however, stopped when he realized she wasn't alone. Officer Farman was with her, acting respectable. "Pardon sir," he said. "We spotted you."

Roy was filled with suspicion about that. Sciezska was enthusiastic seeing Elysia. This behavior showed a lot: the disappointment she must have felt for not taking Elysia here herself. It probably expressed her motivation for being here.

"I gotta go!" Elysia's desperate cry pushed Roy's suspicions into the secondary part of his priorities.

"Sciezska," he calmly slurred. "Will you?"

Elysia's hand switched to a female's accompanying hand. The girl's lips sparkled. Roy saw that as both girls vanished into no man's room.

* * *

"So, how do you like Mr. Mustang?" Sciezska knelt to Elysia as the former was washing her hands on the sink.

"He's nice," Elysia's answer had a sad politeness.

"What's the matter?"

"He's kinda scary."

Sciezska gave no surprise, growing more reflective. "I know. He frightened me when I first met him. For a while, I thought the worst about him. Then I realized he was actually a good person."

Elysia's young mind connected with the bookworm's words. She wanted to like Roy. She remembered that day when she wanted to be near him, when they both cried over daddy. But she wasn't able to do it again. And she didn't understand why. Roy did not look like any monster from the bedtime stories. Why did an un-ugly man like him scare her? It was very confusing for her young mind.

"Your daddy really wanted Roy to spend time with you," Sciezska continued. "They saw each other as brothers, which makes him a part of your family. Like me and Winry." She smiled at the last sentence.

Elysia thought about that as well. The bookworm was right about that too. But something kept her from calling Roy _Uncle_.

Soon, Elysia and Sciezska were outside again. They met with Roy and Farman.

Roy looked pleased. "Wish to join us?" he asked.

Elysia nodded frantically. It would be more fun having Sciezska with them!

Sciezska's disappointing face, however, showed different intentions. "I'm sorry, but I just remembered something."

Farman followed her cue. "She's right, sir. I'll escort Miss Sciezska on her way." He spoke with red on his cheeks. This was not duty only.

The two left, returning Roy back to his hardship. Elysia's sagged her lips to the point of becoming cemented. Roy's leading movements urged her to walk around. The fun trip had become a façade of motions with no depth of feelings. Even Roy's strong resolve was hitting the limit. What was the point? As things clearly proved, Roy Mustang was a failure as a babysitter.

Then they walked to the game booths. Roy felt his hand become tighter than before. "Elysia?" He saw the girl acting wary to the booths. Full of throwing games. He understood.

Unfortunately, Elysia proved more reactive. She broke free of Roy's hand, running away with a littering of toys and prizes along the way.

Roy limped himself to follow. "Elysia, I order…" He corrected himself. "Come back here!" His tired legs proved no match for the younger. Fortunately, Elysia had stopped her escape. She paused at the entrance of a tent, with a sign marked CLOSED.

Roy reached her there. "That was a dangerous thing to do, Elysia. Now come on…"

Elysia furiously shook her head. "No! I won't go!"

Great, rued Roy. Now the girl had to misbehave! Well, stern action required a stern response. "Now listen!" he shouted. "Stop this behavior! I know this is tough for you. But you can't let it rule your life."

The kid frowned bug-eyed at him. Roy frowned back. Wrong action! It was another mistake in a series of misinterpretations. A moment of intense unease had come for the Brigadier General and the child. The aftermath of this would define their future relationship. And Roy had no idea what to do.

* * *

This decisive moment was at the tent of one Viktor Lenore. His roof had been flooded during the morning's rainstorm, and minutes ago decided to bare holes that leaked the rainwater. A frantic man, Lenore did all he could to keep the floor dry through the use of buckets. The first bucket that overflowed was taken out and emptied without much attention to _where_ it was emptied…

* * *

Water exploded on Roy Mustang. Drenched and dripping, the man froze where he stood. His eyes blinked with his mouth gaping but silent, as if in shock. He was covered in that wretched combination of hydrogen and oxygen. Good for cleaning and sustenance but a major deterrent for the Flame Alchemist. His extremely and strained high emotions had taken another blow. One thing more...

He heard giggles. His eyes stabbed at the source. Elysia…laughing! She had lost control, ignoring her pout in humor. It also blinded her to the increasing fury that Roy was approaching. A chance of her ruing this reaction was apparent, Roy sternly wished. Why that…little…This…wasn't…funny…

All words in Roy Mustang were gone along with reserve. A fury exploded from the Brigadier General. Roy's mouth let out the most uncontrollable wave of laughter he ever gave. His mouth clattered with chuckles, his body cringed in nervous glee. His inner thoughts tried to find order. What he could attain was surprise. I'm laughing. It wasn't an act or going through the motions. _I'm really laughing!_

A minute passed in this shared moment of mirth. Their laughs became a minimal snicker. Man and child looked at each other openly and honestly. They felt okay over doing something missing from both their lives for some time now. Elysia had again seen another new side to Roy. A man who could both cry and laugh with her was no longer a scary stranger. "I'm sorry, Roy," she lowered her head in shame.

"It's all right." Roy took off his coat, which had absorbed most of the water. "I'm afraid I haven't been around kids that much. Your father was better in that." He gave his hand out. Elysia responded to it with no fear. That feeling changed once they stood before the game tents again.

"Do you want to play?" he gently asked.

The girl tried to resist the invitation.

But Roy was undaunted. He had grabbed the advantage; he was not going to let go. "Let's go," he smiled encouragingly. "I want to see if you can throw as good as your daddy."

Elysia startled from the expectation. "I don't know how."

"There's a first time for everything," Roy parried her hesitance.

"My daddy was great at throwing things," the girl admitted. "I-I can't throw things okay."

"Neither did your father at first."

Elysia stared and gasped at the audacity of this accusation.

"In the beginning, your father was lousy at hitting targets."

"You lie!" Elysia's puzzled face unleashed anger. Her green-eyed stare shaped to a serious impression of her father.

But Roy was too busy shaking his head to see that. "Hey kid, I was there, remember! Your father got a lot of practice to become that good."

The furious strain on Elysia's face slightly changed to soft curiosity. "Ya think I could throw things like Daddy?"

Roy looked at her sincerely. "I know you can."

Heaving a nervous sigh, Elysia walked to one of the booths. Roy asked for a bench for the girl to stand on. He paid for six balls, with three for each. He handed three to the girl to throw at the group of bottles before them.

The first ball only hit the floor. The second one almost hit the keeper (who was ready to scream at the girl, before a dark face from Roy kept his mouth shut). The third miss discouraged the girl.

Mustang gave her his group of balls. "Try again." Roy's low voice nevertheless bore some confidence, despite what he was saying about her father. "When your dad started to learn how to throw, he did hit things. Only it wasn't the target." He snickered. "A lot of those things were people."

"Hmp!" Elysia flinched at the insulting nature of his comment. She will show him! She aimed the ball again. She missed. Then another failed throw, resulting in the last ball in her hand. Her bright mind considered the chance. A sign? The hope fell with its failure.

Elysia's head grew heavy in defeat. She stared at the ground, feeling herself no good.

A hand with three more balls hovered under her gaze. "Try again."

The girl gave her sad glance to Roy's brave face. He really believed in her. Absorbing this confidence, Elysia tried one more time with this trio of orbs. She picked up one ball, aimed, and threw. She missed. Try again. She threw the ball. It hit the bottles.

The fear of failure was drowned by the surprise of success, a major event especially for a child. "I did it! I did it! I did it!" She yelled and clapped her hands excitingly. She got a giant stuffed doll for her labors, and it was more endearing to her than the other gifts she got here. Looking at her victorious behavior, Roy was pleased. He had finally achieved a smile from Elysia. Just look at her, smiling like that! Her joy resembled someone…_Maes?_

Elysia noted the stunned look on her companion. "What's matter?"

"Nothing," Mustang recovered himself with a pleasant face. "You should smile more often."

Elysia blushed at this remark. It now felt good to get Roy's praise. She went to another booth. This time it was darts at a balloon.

"Now it's my turn." Roy confidently picked his projectiles. He threw them.

"You missed," Elysia teased every time.

Now it was Mustang's turn for surprise. Twenty minutes passed before he accused the game of being rigged. His frustration was momentary, figuring it trivial to Elysia's presence. The child was in good spirits…and he liked it. He had a new experience to Elysia. It was as if he had given all those pictures a blind eye. Her expressions were like an art gallery, full of variety and interest. It didn't feel like a job anymore, Roy realized, a bargain he owed his dead friend. Seeing her happy presence felt good, like seeing Riza (Of course, there was nothing romantic in the connection; the girl was four years old!).

This new sensitivity, however, was a two-edged sword; just as seeing her happy was good, seeing her sadness was depressing. A new responsibility materialized. Roy had to maintain the child's pleasure in this dark world. Elysia was the future; an innocent, like another child…

"Father? What's wrong, father?" "How could you…" 

"_I took it out of the safe, because I thought your precious treasure would be burned in the fire…Fa…th…"_

"_That is why they are foolish!"_

In a shudder, Roy quickly freed himself from that dreadful memory, speaking casually. "Your father and I went to the carnival when we were kids. It didn't have any of these new attractions, but it was still fun."

"Your daddy not take you?" asked Elysia in surprise.

Roy emoted nothing in his next words. "I lost my dad when I was a kid."

Elysia's response was awkward only in wording. "Why do we lose daddies?"

Roy sustained himself for causing such a thoughtless remark. A similarity like this was too close for comfort. "It…wasn't so bad. I had your dad."

* * *

By now, the light of day was almost gone. The late time and his own condition made Roy concerned for his new friend. "Are you tired, Elysia?"

"No," Elysia expressed herself as the opposite of exhaustion. "I wanted t' stay up for the fireworks."

Unfortunately, the booms of the weather had other ideas. Gray skies quickly darkened, throwing rain upon everything below. Its sad effect was a threat, but Roy was on the defensive. They headed under a roof. "Don't worry, Elysia," He warmly patted her shoulder. "I'll show you fireworks another day."

"Promose?" Elysia pleaded.

"Promise," he shook her little hand for agreement.

To make the best of the situation, Roy got Elysia under an ice cream parlor. The room was crowded with others, with a long line to boot. But Elysia wasn't impatient. She took the time to actually speak to Roy. The man seemed unhappy, and she wanted to cheer him up. "My daddy once said something about you. He said to me that ya are a great man."

"He exaggerated," said Roy humbly.

Elysia didn't think so. Roy looked _big_ to her.

By the time Elysia got her share of ice cream, Riza had reliably tracked the two down. Elysia spouted everything to Riza, from the rides, to her winning a prize, as well as Roy's predicaments.

"Really?" Riza betrayed a tiny smile.

Roy frowned in resentment.

The car ride back saw some changes. True, the seating arrangements stayed the same, with both at different sides, separated by the prizes and gifts. But the scene was not a duplicate of before.

"Um, Roy?" said Elysia very freely without the earlier lack of nerve. "Is your work important to ya?"

Roy nodded.

"Was daddy's work special to him?"

"Yes." Roy sighed easily. Can this kid ever stop asking questions? He thought with accepted irritation.

Then Elysia's smile fell. "I hated his work. I wanted Daddy to stop making it special. I got angry. He yelled at me about it. I said I hated him." She fell silent for a moment, looking more ashamed. "Then he went away."

The pain of Elysia's reminisces guarded her from seeing Roy's shock over this. Maes…yelled at her? That was so unlike him! Then again, the strain he was under: learning the truth about Central, knowing his death was near. That behavior was understandable for anyone under that situation. But Elysia didn't know. Roy tensed with the thought of an explosive epiphany. All those questions Elysia asked; like the combined pieces of the puzzle, the clues came into union. All this time, the girl's real question to him was: _Is it my fault daddy went away?_

Roy was resolved. He had to stop the guilt. "Elysia, you had nothing to do with what happened to your father."

"Are ya sure?" She stared her green eyes, yearning desperately for truth.

"Because, it's actually…_not_ _your_ fault." Roy reluctantly changed his words. He found he couldn't say the real culprit. But he could give Elysia another truth. A satisfying one, at least. "You two would be hugging again if he didn't go away. Several times, I said and did things that hurt your father's feelings. I felt sorry about it later, and was afraid that we would never be friends ever again. But Maes Hughes came back, still wanting to be my friend."

Elysia appeared unmoved, saying nothing.

"That was the kind of man your father was. And you, Elysia, were so precious to him. None of the bad things you did could hurt him. Your father would always love you."

He got no reaction at first. Then Elysia nudged closer, comforting her head upon Roy's arm. He shrugged himself free of her. The arm winded around her, giving her his side to rest on.

"I miss daddy," said Elysia.

"Me too."

* * *

Roy had considered not coming in, but Elysia convinced him otherwise. Their meeting with Gracia brought some notice. "You look…."

"Yes." Roy was quick, to the point, and unwilling to press it further.

He stood with his cane while Elysia gave her mother a scattered report on their adventures. Gracia nodded happily to each detail. "It sounds like you had a great time!" She drew Elysia to her room. "Now go up and get changed. Tell me more in bed!"

As the girl vanished, her mother had a chance to serve some help for Roy. She made him some hot tea. "Thank you very much for this."

Roy had similar feelings. He drank the tea, and made some small talk with Mrs. Hughes. His curiosity got the better of him. "Pardon my asking, but how was Maes toward Elysia before he left?" His cool face nevertheless betrayed a shake in his eyes.

Happiness washed off Gracia's face. The grief she knew too well this year lined her face. But she still spoke about the sensitive recollections without wavering. She was indeed a strong woman. "I saw him in Elysia's room. He was hugging her while she slept. He had been cruel to her on the phone a few hours ago and wanted to apologize. But she was sleeping soundly. He put her back in bed, and watched her for a while. He kissed her goodnight." She stopped talking.

Roy's mind gazed at less corporeal matters than the floor before him. "Does she know about this?"

"I've told her many times," said Gracia.

"Keep on reminding her." That being said, Roy slowly moved away with respect. "I must be going now."

"Oh please stay for a moment," Gracia protested. "At least say good night to Elysia."

* * *

Elysia had already gotten into her nightgown when she saw Roy enter the room. That nervous feeling came again, wishing her to act calmly to the man. But Roy's presence eased her anxiety. She could act herself around him.

"I hope you enjoyed the carnival," Roy was fighting his own edginess. But the habitual discomfort he had with people Elysia's age had now lost much of its endurance.

It helped with Elysia's excited behavior. She nodded to his question, then spoke her own. "Did you like it?"

Roy was taken off guard by this reversal of inquiry. "Uh…yes I did."

"Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations, congratulations!" Elysia repeated in praise. Roy felt another pleasant assault to his memories. He bowed flamboyantly to her. "Thank you."

The girl jumped into her bed, pulling the covers above her. Roy saw this the perfect time to leave now. "Good night."

Another question from her, however, stalled the retreat. "Will you take me to carnival next year?"

Roy turned around, carrying a smile. "Just try and stop me."

Once he left, Elysia snuggled into her bed. She had been very happy today. The dark, scary man had shown her many things this day and night; things that she would never forget from him. She really wouldn't mind seeing him again.

Now this didn't mean Elysia stopped missing daddy. This loss would be with her forever. But she wasn't feeling very, very, very sad about it as before (though she would still feel very, very sad). She had found a new friend. Someone as brave, as strong, as caring as her father. An Uncle.

* * *

Roy Mustang limped back to his own apartment door with little trouble. The man physically fell apart when he got inside. His nose was offset by constant sneezes. Must be coming down with a cold. As if he needed another reason to stay bedridden! The comfort of the bed, once gained, proved disappointing. His muscles, especially the legs, had been strained beyond their present limit. He was warned, knew the risks, ignored them, and was punished for his disobedience. It was poetic justice.

Never mind that today was the first fun he had in ages.

* * *

Next time: Things are looking up for Roy and Elysia, but demons from his past are hard to forget, let alone overcome. Will Roy's ordeal tear apart this new friendship? 


	3. Backslide

Unca Roy

Chapter 3: Backslide

By Claudius

* * *

I don't own the rights to _Fullmetal Alchemist_.

* * *

_Demotion of rank _

Such words were thought bluntly. It was shared by Alex Armstrong and Roy Mustang as they walked the streets of Central. Both had experienced much in war and peace. These last few days, they dealt with the consequences of the former. Compared to the inquiries and trial, fighting the Homunculus was a piece of cake.

"Demotion of rank," Alex repeated the final verdict given to Mustang.

"That's what I expected," Mustang was cool in his reaction. It could have been worse. There was execution if the charge of murdering Fuhrer Bradley was added. Instead, that charge was omitted. After all, the Fuhrer's body was never recovered. Archer made sure no witnesses survived to accuse Roy as an assassin, and Roy's Alchemy signature was not enough evidence against him. In fact, the only real evidence was too strange to reveal: the fingerprints found on Selim Bradley's crushed neck were his stepfather's. Rather than deal with the truth that the Fuhrer had committed murder, the military decided to omit everything concerning Roy and assassination. Archer was made into the scapegoat, the major cause of death around the mansion.

But the Flame Alchemist would not escape unscathed by this situation. He still had to face treason for rebelling against the government. Fortunately (much to the chagrin of some officers, like General Hakuro), the worst he received was a demotion. Gone was the Brigadier Generalship. Roy accepted it without complaint. Even acquitted, he would have volunteered for that loss of rank anyway. He went one step further and asked for the resignation as Lieutenant Colonel and other high ranks save for State Alchemist. In his private view, those ranks were won through murder and corruption. Better to be rid of them. The request was accepted, and Roy was now demoted to Corporal. It seemed like a clean slate.

"They were lenient on you," Armstrong's serious expression was outdone by his shorter companion. Mustang didn't reply. Hearing nothing, Armstrong continued the conversation. "The question is what now?"

Roy ricochet that question. "What's your plans, Major?"

Armstrong stood upright and flexed, as if he was the master of his own destiny. "I have decided to quit the military for good. Despite the militaristic traditions of the Armstrong family, I admit that I lack the heart of a soldier."

Roy nodded. "You're too kind for it."

"The good days of the military were long over before I joined. The army my father followed has become a predator of the innocent and defenseless. Not only from Bradley, but others who abused their powers with no conscience of what they did."

"So, you're gonna use your powers for good instead of evil?" Roy's seemingly mocking words lacked a superficial emphasis.

Armstrong nodded and flexed with a flamboyant tone of voice. "My heart is really an artist, creating beauty from nothing. That is a wondrous gift that eclipses my Alchemy. I will go to the conquered cities and help them rebuild."

"Good luck," Roy felt no argument for Armstrong's wishes. It was time for places like Ishbal and Liore to be healed from the onslaught Amestris unleashed upon them.

Mustang saluted his superior officer. "Now it's time I made my way, _sir_." He emphasized the last word. "I have a performance tonight." And with that he swiftly departed. Armstrong allowed this quick departure without protest. No other words could continue the conversation. Corporal Mustang was like an impenetrable fortress, unwilling to open up. At least, Armstrong realized, not to one like himself. His competence in aiding Roy against the Homunculus wasn't enough for a better rapport. Though he is the perfect embodiment of the human body, Armstrong knew he was no Maes Hughes.

* * *

"And the bunny princess scurried quickly to her beautiful rabbit hole…" 

Roy took a pause from this sugar-coated reading. He gazed at Elysia with his one eye. On the bed beside him, the girl was content. Definitely a good reaction for this reluctant bedtime storyteller, Roy thought. This wasn't an easy task for him, very much argued against, until Gracia (and Riza) persuaded him to do it for Elysia's sake. There was no attempt at a performance. Whenever a character spoke, it was in the same, suave voice as the narrator.

Seeing no problem (besides the story's content), Mustang continued the reading to its end. Then he closed the book. Elysia now lay asleep. Her look was readable; she appeared to have enjoyed his performance. The girl wasn't alone in the praise. Roy heard soft clapping from an eavesdropper at the door. Gracia finished her gestured approval. "Cheers on the first attempt."

But the storyteller was humble to his abilities. "This was Maes' expertise. He could do voices."

"Oh, your one voice is enough." Gracia was warm to his humility. "People listen to you. I think there are some who would pay money just to see you read a phone book."

Roy liked the compliment. He returned his eye on Elysia. Should he kiss her? The idea was rejected. Roy then left the bedroom and joined Gracia. "I doubt I could pull this off again," Roy bared his faults. "Things like reading bedtime stories aren't my style."

Gracia scoffed. "_Things like that_ are what kids need. It's a dumb stereotype that men can't be friendly to children. Maes showed me that." Her face glowed in thought about that historical discovery.

Roy absorbed the encouragement. He followed Gracia downstairs for some late tea. After the pouring and drinking, some small talk was made. It grew to major situations. One was Gracia about her present situation. The widow kept a calm face. "I guess I'm starting to move away from the 'one-day-at-a-time' mindset. Sorta in the early preliminaries of the early stages of starting. I have to look to the future and Elysia."

Roy felt an urge to say something. Give assurance that she and Elysia were not alone. He failed.

Gracia shot back with concern of a different target. "And how are you doing, Roy?"

Roy sidestepped the issue. "Don't worry."

But Gracia was insistent in this focus. "Please know that I'm here for you. I'm sure being a Brigadier General's widow allows me some influence."

Roy shook his head. "My demotion is no big loss. My rank was nothing but a title."

A bittersweet expression was now Gracia's. "But it feels like Maes' help went to nothing."

Roy snorted that view. "I'll never become Fuhrer. But Amestris is changing for the better. The dictatorship has been removed. All of Bradley's racist laws against the conquered nations have been reversed. This is what Maes and I wanted for our country. He would be happy."

Gracia was silent. Roy was rather impressive in his words. Too impressive. She quickly composed herself. "But I do worry about you, Roy. Guess I inherited that from Maes. You were on his mind a lot." She hung her head to her tea, as if to avoid looking at him. "You've been such a help…to Elysia."

Roy ignored the praise. Okay, maybe he took a little of the acclaim.

Gracia resumed on the topic with Elysia. "She's happier now. Looking forward to things. Like school."

"That'll change," Roy joked. Still, it was good to have direction.

Gracia relaxed. "I've been taking her to see Maes' grave. It doesn't bother her, like that day…She talks to the grave, as if she expects her father to listen." Gracia's kind voice rejected the cynic in those realistic words.

Roy had heard of the weekly visits to the cemetery, with hardly any response. The site had become offensive to him. "So you've…already visited?"

"Last week." Gracia nodded sadly. "It's been hard going there, but Elysia is happy. That's all that matters to me." The widow was intense to that belief, as if she was clinging to her daughter's peace of mind like an anchor.

Roy took that description to heart. Such feelings, perhaps not different to his own, brought some discomfort. "I guess I should be going. Havoc and the others are planning some party at the tavern. Might as well make an appearance."

* * *

Back into the night, Roy Mustang wandered down the street. His walk was made with relative ease. The cane was now retired. Except for some minor sores, his body, what remained of it, had made a full recovery. But health was not on Roy's mind. Nor was his lost rank, which should have been a strong blow for an egomaniac like himself. 

_Elysia did look happy at my storytelling_. That line took priority in Roy's thought, repeating like a record. Maybe he should have given her a goodnight kiss. Perhaps he'll make up for it by taking her out with Riza.

How strong a relationship can grow in such short time, Roy was surprised. It felt like the child had become engraved inside his brain and heart. She was now an important player in his life. What could have brought such an intimate connection? There were many reasons to pick, none being the sole choice to take and be satisfied. To begin with, Roy felt a duty of responsibility for his best friend's only child, something he owed to Hughes. Elysia's resemblance to her father helped, giving Roy the sense that the man still lived on in spirit. There were some selfish factors as well. Elysia's sweetness and innocence was so different from his own dark reality. Her presence burnished his darkness. It brought him comfort being with her. Such times of play, accompanying Elysia through walks in the park or attending her tea parties with her imaginary friends. It was fun.

Of course, the kid played a large part too. She was smart and kind, and had a nice view of things. The world was not gray, but beautiful and shiny. It gave Roy the need to protect her from the truth, or at least help her not get destroyed by the dark world. She emphasized the good in life, what was important. And she was so adorable! As Roy was now concerned, the duty he believed in had lost all its burdens, now becoming a second nature. The more Roy saw the child, the happier he became. For a four-year-old child, Elysia was something else…

Too bad it took her father's death to bring them together.

Roy flinched in the return of that morose fact! Not tonight! He was going to stay happy tonight! He fought the gloom by looking at other things around him. And then Roy realized what street he was in. Toward him was a small square imprint surrounded by bolts and screws. The phone booth was no longer there; it had been torn away by public wish. No one wanted to use it after that day.

Roy's form became tense, wavering from complacency to rebellion. Why did he come to this horrible place? Was he too distracted in thought to avoid it, or was he drawn to it? As Roy had already experienced, the gaining of knowledge was always a hard journey.

A wave of uncomfortable feeling came into him. The street was as offensive as the cemetery. He had to leave.

"Come on, get me Roy Mustang!"

His ears heard words. Not his own.

"What? What do you mean he's gone? Damn it, Roy, you're acting stupid again. With this information you could go straight to the top."

Roy's mind first heard those words by Officer Falman. Now the urge to leave took on a desperate tone. But as soon as he began the retreat, Roy's one eye spotted something. The ghostly appearance of the booth materialized on its foundations! His body stilled before this apparition. It was too late. A grim scenario was being choreographed of his own making. Roy had structured the story many times in that month it happened. The scenes played along in his unwilling head. Maes Hughes went to a trap set by Juliet Douglas, Bradley's secretary and Homunculus partner in crime. With probable realization of the situation, Maes escaped, reaching this booth to contact him. The information his friend had, according to Falman's photographic recollection, was something that would put him to the top. Probably the secret of the Homunculus' control of Amestris, and their waging war to create Philosopher Stones. It was all in vain though, Roy remembered with a growing bitterness. He wasn't there to get the call.

Roy strengthened himself for his next move. He walked to the transparent booth, his mind creating ideas. Maes had to have been with someone. Probably his murderer, presumably the shape-shifting Homunculus. The bullet hole…

Roy shirked for a moment, recalling that mortal wound he noticed at the autopsy. The bullet hole showed that the Homunculus was hiding its guilt by not using its powers to make the killing attack. That much Roy knew. Now he searched his intelligence to complete the rest of the story. A gun wasn't sufficient against a skilled fighter like Hughes. His friend would have disarmed and killed the assailant. The murderer had to have done something to disorient him…

Oh no…

To this detective's shock, the final piece of that puzzle was added. It was horrible to think it, but the idea lingered on like a pestilence, alien to his reservations. Before the spectator's unwavering eye, the set and players had gathered. Maes. Homunculus. Maes confronted the Homunculus. Maes was ready to attack, but the Homunculus was clever. He changed to a form his victim was unable to aggress.

Which is why Roy's eye saw Elysia pointing a gun at her father. All composure shattered. "Maes!" the watcher's scream met with the gunshot. But the play abruptly ended. All was again empty on the street before him. Only the cruel reality was harder to vanish. It plunged within Roy its attacks of harsh truth. He could do nothing to stop it. He was going to rescue Hughes; he arrived in Central to find a corpse in a morgue. The murderer was never apprehended. Roy could ignore that sore point. As far as he was concerned, the Homunculus who killed Hughes was Bradley. And Bradley paid for it. But revenge was never a good medicine.

* * *

Roy didn't reach the party. Instead, in a trance of depression, he walked home. Back to his apartment, he sat on his chair, facing the frightening darkness of his life. There was no escape from his crimes. He was a fool to think it so. Roy spotted his gloves. He had not used them since the week before the carnival. He put them on. He snapped his fingers. Sparks came. Nothing else. 

That was an understatement. The nerve-torturing images in his mind whenever he attempted to create fire cannot be called _nothing_. These memories showed the complete uselessness of his Alchemy. He dreamed of using his gift to help people. He never used it that way. The fire he could trigger burned and maimed people to death. And it failed to protect innocents or dear ones. Then he used it to kill a monster he hated. Such memories and facts were stuck to his mind like cement: hard, irremovable, ugly. They formed a convincing wall against a successful summoning.

Roy tore the gloves from his hands, throwing them across the room. Better never to use it again. If only that proved an easy solution in withdrawing the ghosts! The intensity of Roy's dark mood grew tighter, reaching a suffocating sensation. It was getting hard to breathe. Hughes must have felt the same way. Doomed like a fly in a spider's web, awaiting Bradley's order to seal his fate.

No, Roy corrected. The seal was made years ago, in the moment he made no protest and refusal to Hughes' offer to push him up from the ranks.

_Mommy, why are they burying daddy?_

Yes, Roy will never regret having Maes Hughes in his life.

Yes, it is probably true Maes never regretted helping him.

But that didn't change one single fact…

_Mommy, why are they burying daddy?_

Because, dear Elysia, daddy's best friend got him killed.

* * *

Sleep was almost unattainable that night for Roy Mustang. The same was said for the later nights of that week. Mostly sleepless, with the occasional slumber full of bad dreams; usually these nightmares complimented his present thoughts. The encounter in the street had reopened the healing wounds. He was back where he started months ago. The guilt. The deaths he caused. The sins that can never be cleansed. He was a fool to think he could be happy. Yes, these past weeks he was happy; the misery he was now in showed the comparison plainly. Or was he really happy? Was he in denial of his true self? He should have known better, with a record like his. Happiness was an unattainable prize, undeserving for a killer like him. 

Roy had long accepted the notorious claim. It existed ever since his first killing in Ishbal. Even the naysayers he trusted, the ones who did not accept his murders as his own choice, would be put off by his latest action with Bradley. There was no order forcing his hand there. He killed for the sake of it. No fire could sterilize his bloody hands.

Death was his friend. It helped him greatly. True, as a leader, the loss of men was expected. But the cost didn't always include soldiers. Roy's life was a slave to the law of Equivalent Exchange. What he got was done by the sacrifice of lives. The cost of his parents led him to the uncle who sent him to the Academy and Alchemy. The Ishbalan Massacre gave him his reputation and rank. The death of the Rockbells gave him wisdom. The cost of Hughes cost gave him fortitude and more wisdom. Selim's death gave him survival. Bradley's death showed his true self. Who's next? It sounded like some sick joke to make fun of. Might as well go for it. Everyone, come on! Step forward to be sacrificed for the god named Roy Mustang! Let all die for his glory!

Roy awoke from his latest nightmare. His pajamas were stained with sweat. He breathed a heavy set of inhales and exhales. Tired, broken, he hung his head for some hope of comfort. Instead he continued thinking of this latest dream. It portrayed the inevitable. And there was only one way to fight it.

* * *

One afternoon, Elysia Hughes stepped around the park. Her springy movements suggested freedom at every chance. But her arm was secured by the hold of the stronger hand of her watcher. He was as lethargic as she was energetic. Dark as she was bright. Her smile before his eyes threatened to infect him. He tried not to let her win. 

Elysia spotted something. Some birds were gathering at the grass near her. "Oh, please! Unca Roy!"

"You go," Roy nodded his permission. He knocked at his hip. "My legs still aren't working yet."

Freed of the adult's hand, Elysia quickly ran to the field. The birds scattered at her approach; the girl looked up, dumbfounded at her failure. She began jumping and skipping to catch the animals. Her sight fell to Roy. She returned to him, her face concerned. "What's matter?"

Roy paused at her question. Was he losing his touch with the poker face? "I've been feeling sad."

Elysia's face started to share Roy's gloom. "Is it about Daddy?"

Roy wasn't quick to reply. Kid was getting a little too intuitive for her own good. Best to lie. "Not today, kiddo. There have been other things."

"Can I make it better?"

Roy was attracted. He very much wanted her comfort. But he couldn't keep doing this, using Elysia as a landing to his constant falls. The girl had to live her own life, free of his troubles. And soon, before it wrecked her life as well. There was a way to break the cords that bound them. He hoped he was strong enough to do it.

"You can try," Roy knelt before the girl. He accepted her embrace. Just one more day of moments like this…

* * *

With the passing of another day, Roy Mustang followed his choice. He went to the destination. As ever, his resolve was never without reluctance. He didn't want to go. It had been months since he was at the cemetery, and that was only because his reputation and ambition demanded it. And he no longer had those now. 

Getting out of a cab, Roy entered the gates. He spotted the figures of mother and daughter on the hill of the fallen. As he came closer, he saw the child kneeling to the gravestone, probably holding a bouquet of flowers. Gracia's description of her actions was accurate: she spoke to the grave, as if her father was actually listening to her.

With heavy feet, Roy dragged to their presence. A few feet away, he spoke. "Do you believe he's there?" Mustang's question caught Elysia's attention. She smiled and greeted Roy. But her smile fell, intimidated. Roy knew it was the uniform he was wearing; too much a reminder of her father. Perfect. It never gets easy, does it?

"Do you believe he's there?" he repeated his question. Elysia nodded sadly. Resolve stilled the Corporal's emotions. He spoke coldly. "I don't. Your father was full of life. This…" he looked to the grave, "doesn't suit him."

His heart began to tighten. Elysia resumed her talk to the grave. He was on the verge to retreat. The girl was starting to recover. Why should he bring her down to his own problems? Because he could not let himself or this child live a lie. "I killed your father."

As if slapped by a hand, Elysia stopped silent. The area got very quiet, except for Gracia's gasp. Elysia's eyes struck the tombstone, as if Roy was actually standing before her.

Mustang was not consoled by this lack of a face off. He had enough of that from Gracia's wary expression, pressuring him not to say anything more to hurt her daughter. "Your father was helping me, trying to get valuable information. But some evil men didn't like that. They stopped him from giving me the info." He paused, than followed up. "But none of this would have happened if I didn't let your father help me. It's because of me that he went away."

The flowers dropped from Elysia's hand. She remained looking at the grave. Roy read her movements clearly. Did he expect a better scene?

His eye turned to Gracia. She walked to him, gazing down with guilt. "Please don't take this the wrong way." Now Roy saw both her eyes freeze with wrath. Roy felt the spark of her hand upon his cheek. He was statuesque to this attack, doing nothing. He understood very well. It was not about Maes.

Gracia turned and knelt down before the groveling Elysia, ready to do her best to console the betrayed child. Roy's mind predicted Elysia facing him, her glaring eyes spewing meaningful venom. The captions of _I hate you!_ A cold resemblance of her father, portraying cruel fury and accusation. Now Roy's resolve evaporated. He couldn't do this any longer. He couldn't face the youth's hate. He turned away and walked back to the gates. Roy hoped he didn't hear her voice. Thus the fact that the silence continued in his departure was very fortunate.

* * *

"Shake, bow, roll over." 

Riza made her daily commands to Black Hayate, who obeyed each one immediately and accurately. She gave him his dinner. Maybe she should stop having the poor animal prove itself every day. But no, she quickly reasoned. This was fun.

She didn't have to see this as a distraction anymore. Things were improving, a good change from the many weeks since the assassination. That period was becoming a part of the past like the massacres in Ishbal. But they remained engraved to Riza's mind nevertheless. Much of it her own, most of it connected to Roy. Together, they held their heads high bearing the crimes. But all that endurance ended with the assassination. The shattering happened to Riza first. Through her eyes she witnessed horrible scenes: Roy lying on the Fuhrer's doorstep, covered in blood. Gracia doing her best to save his life. Every scene chiseled off her defenses, turning the tough-as-nails Lieutenant into a hysterical crybaby. Perhaps it was better she suffered first. Roy needed her when his turn came.

Riza remembered when that happened. The afternoon Roy began his mourning for Brigadier General Hughes. Riza leaned against that bedroom door, hearing his every cry of anguish. Her hand was squeezing the knob; she would have torn it off and run to his side. Instead she listened to those cries, waiting for it to end. The following days were no better, the Flame Alchemist descending further into his grief. Still she did nothing but feed and help dress the man. Roy had to recover by his own choice.

But there were limits to even her fortitude. So Riza and Sciezska schemed to set Roy up with the equally melancholy Elysia, hoping the rapport would help them both recover. And the results were good. The General seemed to have renewed interest in life. Riza recalled those recent times: The talks they had. The walks in the streets and vendor markets. Riding horses, with Elysia on Roy's lap. These peaceful moments also broke through the woman's defenses, but in a good way. Compared to that, Roy's loss of rank proved ephemeral, though it meant she was now Mustang's superior in rank. Perhaps she could have some fun in this.

She heard knocking at the door. Riza paused to see Roy. She had not seen him in a few days. He was in his uniform.

"Please come in, _Corporal_." Riza saluted Roy as he entered. The Corporal appeared like a statue, immune to the positive feelings of his host. "I'm transferring to the Northern border."

Riza felt gunshots on herself. She was still alive, undamaged in body. "You are?"

"Evidently I stand too much as a loose cannon." Roy didn't nod or shake his head. "I make the heads nervous."

Riza quickly drew to any compensation. "Will you be transferring alone…sir?"

"I am."

Outside Riza stayed resolute as everything within her turned chaotic. Suddenly things had changed so much. Can she maintain this composure? Evidently not, for her next reply was hardly professional. "Why not quit the army, like Armstrong?" Hawkeye was grasping at straws; she knew it.

Roy shook his head. "Armstrong is not a soldier. Maes wasn't either. I am. The army is my life. I can fight it, distance myself from it for a while, but I can never forsake it."

In Riza, a fury of selfish complaints sounded in her mind. But old habits died hard. "What about Elysia?" She spoke nonchalantly.

Roy bore that hard point with resolve. "She'll need you. She'll need our friends too."

Riza's cool demeanor was breaking apart. Her eyes were already quaking with an unstable forming that couldn't be mistaken for anything else but pain. And Roy saw that. He too remembered the peaceful times together. Feelings that were present and enjoyed, but never said or displayed beyond a smile or a kind word. Once again, the moment had come for Roy to leave this woman too. End it…before it got...

All his strength had been used up. Roy kissed Riza instead. Riza gave into it. Two faces made a lovely blend of emotion. This could only take one course. Tenderly they fell upon the bed, moving and stripping and loving.

* * *

Epiphanies ran inside the male lover's head. The lack of real detail due to the moment of ecstasy was not a problem; the essence was there. The essence of his origin. Once there was an orphaned child who thought about spurning the world. Then he met another kid who persuaded him to invite it back to his heart again. Taking Maes' friendship gave Roy the courage to care. Such compassion was ripe for development into greater feelings when the right person came. Roy showed that to Riza now. He couldn't leave without revealing his feelings to her. 

Then again, this could be a crueler blow.

* * *

Riza awoke in a haze, feeling her naked skin caressing the blankets. They touched nothing else. The lack made her more alert. Fully awakened, Riza's opened eyes confirmed the sad truth. She was alone now. 

She fell on the bed. That dope! She didn't cry, but the misery was clearly upon her. She squeezed the blankets upon her unclad bosom, the memento of this night she shared love with Roy. She knew what would happen, the fact lining every moment of this ecstasy. But the prediction was a weak defense to what actually happened. Every kiss they gave to each other's face and chest, every caress they shared on arms and back, with every strong feeling erupting from their acts, Riza was urged to believe otherwise; that maybe she could change his mind. That he would stay for her.

Damn her optimism! The rude awakening showed no cushion of resolve was ever strong enough. Now Riza began to fall deep into her own emotional abyss.

A knock at the door broke the descent. Female cries were heard from it. Tiredly, Riza pulled on a robe and answered the door. It was Gracia and Elysia.

"Is Roy here?" Gracia asked.

Riza's sad face gave the truth.

"Do ya know where he is?" Elysia shouted. "Tell me!"

Riza's answer equaled the bluntness of Elysia's question. "He's leaving Central."

Elysia gasped. "We gotta stop 'im!"

Riza gazed away from the child's doomed determination.

Gracia, meanwhile, remembered facts from her husband. If Roy was leaving Central now without fanfare, the departure would have to be...

* * *

The large clock in the station showed it was ten minutes before train departure. Why did it feel like hours? 

In regular clothes, Roy Mustang sat on a bench. He was not in the mood for public farewells right now. His departure would be as soon and secret as possible. No more goodbyes. Havoc and the others omitted from his farewell would understand. Guy code.

But Riza was not a guy. Roy hoped she understood. Could he? The strong senses of last night danced in his mind. As hard as he fought against it, the Corporal enjoyed himself in that intimate night. When he made love to Riza, the burdens that crushed him became as light as cotton. Afterwards, Roy risked much delaying his leaving. He continued to lie with Riza in their nakedness. The light of the moon allowed him to see her sleeping beauty. The eventual break filled him with remorse. Roy wanted to continue getting comfort in that intimate rapport, to have Riza's aid in bearing his horrible legacy. Riza was willing to share!

But logic persevered in emotion. Roy had long accepted his hard choice. Like Elysia, the price of aid was too steep. He was tired of friends dying for the cause of helping him deal with his problems. Better to be alone, with no victim but himself to pay.

The clock now showed seven minutes left. It was time to leave. Roy stood up and grabbed his bags. He walked to the train door.

"Unca Roy?"

An anomaly appeared to Roy's plan. His Ishbal experiences taught him how to react swiftly to an opponent. But the three before him were not Ishbalans. Gracia, Elysia, and Riza stood before him.

Roy was silent and defensive. He couldn't face Riza. Instead he looked at Elysia. Not the better choice.

But Elysia bore no hatred in her expression. She embraced his legs instead. "Ya didn' mean it, did ya?" she shouted, looking for the truth.

Roy sadly took the words clearly. The temptation her words invited! It was so easy to lie, to be her friend again, to see her smile at him. He refused it with a sigh. "Yes, it's true…"

"Ya didn' wanna make my daddy go 'way?" Elysia's interruption shot a different meaning. Surprise smacked Mustang's face with the swiftness of a popped balloon. A dumbfounding sensation paused his body.

"Did ya?" Elysia desperately hoped her belief was true.

Roy's mind and voice were speechless to this perspective Elysia had. He felt like an aged sage finally achieving some wisdom after much hardship. "No." Roy responded with that word. He grappled it, grabbing the hope it gave. "I wanted to save him. I was too late." His head turned left, his words sincere and hard. "I would've done _anything_ for him…"

Riza and Gracia also lowered their heads.

"Please don't go 'way too." Elysia squeezed Roy's legs as hard as she could, in demented hope that her actions would succeed.

Mustang lowered his face to the little vise. He looked to her tearful eyes. Such a young girl, too young, yet with so much understanding! Elysia had found a way to forgive him his failure. Memories of Winry flashed in his mind. Roy never received a civilian's forgiveness, never expected it. He got it from those in his profession, especially his best friend. Such a realization was enough to make half of Mustang's lip curl. Like father, like daughter.

But a happy ending this could not be. "I have to leave."

Elysia stared in shock. She broke her embrace, running away to her mother.

Roy maintained his strong face. His eye kept gazing at Elysia. She had her back to him. He didn't fear her feelings anymore. Ease lifted his melancholy emotions. He was now glad these three women were here.

Gracia handed to him a small package. "Elysia wants you to have this," she said, hoping her silent daughter would confirm it. Elysia did nothing.

Roy didn't open the package. He slung it under his left arm. He then looked to Riza. What could he say? Riza just saluted him. "Safe journey, _sir_." She maintained her dignity. Roy sighed, saluting back.

"I wish I made a pie for you," Gracia was softer in her farewell. "So instead, I ask that you be very careful."

"I will."

The mother bowed her head to her daughter. "Please say goodbye to Uncle Roy." Elysia sulked instead.

"It's all right," Roy calmly asked for no apologies. "I must leave." He turned his sights to the carriage steps. He did not look back.

Then came a shriek. "Unca Roy!"

Again, Roy was on his guard. He turned around, taking the girl's embrace.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" the girl whimpered upon his shoulder. "I'm so mean!"

"No, there's nothing to be sorry about," Roy hushed the child's guilt with calmness. Only the facial part covered by his eye patch showed the strain of this goodbye. "You can't surprise me anymore, Elysia." Adult and child faced each other, his calm face clashing with her weeping one. "You have a kind and strong heart. Don't ever close it. It's your father's."

"All aboard!" The conductor made his cry in the final minutes of departure. It was almost impotent in breaking Mustang's moment of beautiful intimacy with this girl. But he let go, lovingly patting her shoulder. Slowly Roy arose, and went onto the train. The three did not see Roy appear from the window. They remained waiting for such an appearance. But they no longer saw anything of Roy Mustang as the train whistled, moved, and left the station.

Gracia was the only woman with dry eyes. Not that she felt any different.

* * *

Roy sat on his seat, feeling no relaxation. His face ignored the outside. His feelings were not so easily hidden. Was this how Hughes felt whenever he visited him? Yet another kindred feeling for his dead friend! But Hughes never abandoned his friends. Roy couldn't shake that 'desertion' feeling, no matter how much he justified his actions. The belief that everyone would be better off without him was not a complete assurance. Guess he might as well get used to it. At least, _they_ still loved him. 

Roy then remembered the package. Opening it revealed clothes. Pink pajamas with canaries. His fellow passengers shared his stare, adding bewilderment. Roy looked at the clothes for a long while. They had Maes' smell.

"_Yeah Roy. It's too late for me. But it's not too late for you. And it's not too late for her…"_

To himself, Roy asked his dead friend to forgive him again.

* * *

One afternoon, Elysia stayed planted next to the window. She looked out, hoping to see something. A few days had passed since Roy left. Can he come back now? 

"C'mon, Elysia," Gracia appeared to her child. "It's a nice day for a picnic."

Elysia obeyed, but she trudged every step, from changing her clothes to putting on her shoes. Once she met her mother to the hall, she acted like her head and legs were attached to weights. Picnics were not the same without daddy. She never did it with Unca Roy.

Gracia ignored this hesitance with her smile. With the picnic basket in her arm, she opened the door. Elysia expected an empty yard. What she now sent her head straight. Before her were a bunch of grown men and women. All of them saluted her, saying greetings like "Hi Elysia," or "Hello Elysia."

Gracia knew them all. Falman, Feury, Breda, Havoc, Ross, Bloch, Sciezska, and Riza.

Riza stepped before the astonished girl. "Elysia, Corporal Mustang's final orders were that we keep an eye on you."

"We volunteered as well," exclaimed Ross, speaking for herself, Bloch, and Sciezska.

Absorbing such impressionable demands were big for a little girl. But once Elysia got the idea, her frown levitated.

This small gathering took up a good part of a hill in the park. As Gracia set up the cloths and plates with her male guests, Elysia listened closely to what Aunt Riza was telling her. "...Your father talked to Roy about being so worried about you being born while he was away. So I took the phone from Uncle Roy and said, 'I'm sorry to interrupt you, Major. But let me offer a bit of feminine advice…_Babies aren't born after just five months!_"

Elysia chuckled a little. She buried her face on the cloth.

Riza smiled. Entertaining the child brought some ease for her inner somberness. She learned from her grandfather that Mustang never reached his destination. He was taking a leave of absence. Wherever Roy was, he wished to remain unfound. Such uncomfortable feelings were held together by a strong determination. The only thing she could do is stay here. And wait.

Elysia lifted her face from the cloth. "I miss Unca Roy."

Riza nodded. "Me too."

"Do you think he'll ever come back?"

"He'd better!" Riza rubbed the girl's head, finally getting a full smile from her. "But while he's away, we'll be here for you, Elysia. We'll wait for him together."

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED 

NEXT TIME: Now alone, Roy Mustang finds he could take himself away from the Hughes family, but he could never take the Hughes family away from him.


	4. Helping

Unca Roy

Chapter 4: Helping

By Claudius

Note: I deliberately misspelled 'franch doors' because, frankly, France does not exist in the FMA world (Winry's 'Mecca' comment notwithstanding).

* * *

Forests, large fields and animals were seen and captured by the passing eyes of a five-year-old girl.

Elysia Hughes stared hypnotized at the train window, her hands palming the glass. With her eyes on the outside, her mouth spoke a series of questions inside the train's coach room. This was to her mother, Gracia, who answered each question calmly and kindly. It was a familiar scene- the curious child and wise mother- that any parent experiences.

Not quite for those who aren't parents, like the older female passenger facing the two from her coach seat. "Miss, can you please control your child?"

"Where's the harm in it?" Gracia's response was polite in tone. "She's doing nothing wrong."

The fellow passenger looked displeased. "Well, I'm finding it hard to concentrate with all that immature yapping."

Elysia went silent. She sadly bowed her head. Gracia glared at the woman, suddenly possessing the idea to respond, "_Then go sit somewhere else, ma'am!"_ But she didn't act upon it. Only if the passenger shouted at Elysia would she be forceful. Instead, Gracia ignored the woman. "What was that you said, dear?" She spoke encouragingly.

Her smile restored, Elysia continued asking. Gracia resumed answering her questions. Her daughter could do no evil in her view, at least at that age. The girl's behavior had an endearing familiarity to her. Some of it her own, some of it the usual nature of a child, and the remaining amount from her father. And that final amount was made all the more special by Elysia's familiar smile.

The mother accepted the tender feelings caused by this resemblance. True, Gracia was a strong woman. She saw terrible things on good people, and didn't flinch. This was a widow who didn't shed tears in public except at her husband's funeral. Through most of the year she carried on as best she could. But Mrs. Maes Hughes had her limits like any human being. There was always a moment when resolve shattered and Gracia surrendered to the despair and yearning for this child's dead father, the man she loved. Fortunately, Elysia helped her endure it all. Just by being present, the daughter gave her mother new hope.

Gracia needed such optimism. It was a hard thing for a woman to raise her only child alone. There was the financial situation, with some advantages. Gracia could still rely on the pension the military gave her. And Maes did save enough for a small trust fund for Elysia's future education. Even so, Gracia took some actions to avoid any threat of poverty. She made the family home into a semi-boarding house for cadets who needed lodgings or free guests like Winry Rockbell.

Friendly support was even less of a problem. Gracia could count on the community. Elysia had her child friends, and older ones as well. Sciezska was a constant visitor, and Winry Rockbell would be a guest once a month. Twice this year Gracia, Elysia, and Sciezska had visited the young mechanic at her native Resembool. Those were memorable moments, like Winry exciting the child with the automail parts she made and used for disabled people.

A major source of comfort was the army, or to be precise, the subordinates of her late husband and his best friend Roy Mustang. The loss of a father had resulted in Elysia getting so many uncles and aunts! Each of these 'relatives,' from Lieutenants like Maria Ross to Sergeants like Kain Fuery, spent time with Elysia. They took her to the park, to the circus, parades, and picnics. Their assistance wasn't entirely on fun though. For instance, Schiezska and Vato Falman helped Elysia's reading skills for future education. But the most surprising educational help was Heymans Breda. For all his appearance as some brutish slob, Breda was at heart an intellectual with a love for gentler culture. He took Elysia to the museum or to the theatre, speaking philosophical ideas to her. That was not to say all of the help was necessary. Jean Havoc's idea of help came to mind. Overall, Elysia didn't fail to reciprocate the attention (the ones she can understand though).

Prominent among these 'relatives' was Riza Hawkeye. Except for the prohibition of firearm teaching, Gracia accepted Riza's help. The woman and Elysia had a kindred feeling of loss of a different man: Roy Mustang. The former Flame Alchemist had managed to help Elysia through her grief in those dark early days, but his own problems proved harder to soothe. After a few months of close ties, he left Amestris and vanished. He had not been seen for almost a year. His departure was a sore spot for everyone who knew him, even Gracia. She could understand that a person sometimes had to be alone. On the other hand, her life with Maes showed that personal problems could be handled together. At any rate, his disappearance left a new hole in Elysia's life not even his subordinates could fill entirely.

And what of herself? Gracia's devotion to her daughter did cause her the accident (or excuse) of ignoring her own needs. She had never been with a man since Maes died. Gracia knew her husband was a hard act to follow. Friends would try to talk her into dates, but she refused them all. She was bored with their advice that she seal the void Maes' death had left in her life. Easy for them to say! Did she even want to fill it with another man, maybe forgetting the predecessor in the process? Ironically, the fear of success was a strong motivator against making the attempt.

Even greater in irony, Gracia didn't wish an empty void in her daughter. Whatever her reservation about Roy's absence, she did hope for his return. There were signs that he hadn't completely cut off all ties. On the week before Elysia's fifth birthday, Havoc mentioned that he received a message from Roy: _It's Elysia's birthday. Get her a present. _

Gracia felt the strain of that celebration. What a job that birthday was! How can she surpass the birthdays with Maes? Great labors were done by everyone to make the following days after the birthday comfortable and safe from any bad things; there couldn't be a repeat of last year's birthday aftermath. Still, Elysia fretted that another person she knew would 'go away' (her translation for the 'd' word). Then two days later, a package arrived, shattering the worry. It had a note. _From Uncle Roy_. To Elysia, the actual gift, a dress, was nothing compared to this giver. It could have been a box of broccoli or spinach, and the girl would embrace it.

"Are we there yet, Mommy?"

"Very near there," Gracia humorously replied. Close by was Palvern Hill, where she had rented a cottage. A small town, it was a forested spot to spend a week. It was also Maes' hometown. Elysia should know about her father's roots. Fortunately, the girl was excited, seeing the trip as some big adventure.

It was good to see such plans go well. It consoled Gracia's doubts about her parenting skills. She wondered if her calm nature affected her motherly duties in a bad way. Maes was always the flamboyant type, being so emotional in his parenting to Elysia. The mother's more restrained behavior couldn't help but suffer in comparison. Was she cold and distant to her daughter? Did she give Elysia enough hugs and kisses? The memory of her own father's distance to herself was a haunting memory. Such feelings reinforced her resolve: Elysia had to have a mother whose love she could never doubt.

But it wasn't easy. Nursing a bad knee or feeding her pies was no problem. Dealing with Elysia's heart was different. Whether it was Elysia saying she missed her Daddy and Roy, or her fears that Mommy might go away too, Gracia found an obstacle in helping her child. Telling Elysia plainly that life was unfair, so expect the worst and live with it, was wrong. But Gracia felt she couldn't entirely convince Elysia of safety and comfort either. All she could do was be there for her, and hope that all her work gave Elysia as happy a childhood as possible.

* * *

The train stopped at the station. Holding two suitcases, Gracia led her daughter off the train and into the street outside the station. They waited for a bus. Besides them were two men. They were talking. Gracia's ear picked up familiar names and words.

"This was a better country when Bradley was in charge."

Gracia felt like hearing a chalkboard being scratched.

"Yep, he did a lot for this nation," agreed the other.

Gracia flinched at this positive view of that murderer. She was ready to decry them, but it was impolite to interrupt.

"Mommy, do ya miss the Fuwrer?"

"No, dear!" Gracia was loudly blunt, secretly thanking Elysia for the question. "I hated the man." The two men stared at her. She shamelessly beamed a smile.

Her daughter looked uncomfortable with the memory. "The Fuwrer scared me."

Gracia nodded. If her daughter only knew the truth! "Well, you don't have to worry about him anymore. Bradley is gone." Her thoughts trailed on with an added message: _Uncle Roy made that monster go away. _"Good riddance!" was her vocal ending to the topic.

A bus came by the walk. Mother and daughter entered the vehicle. As it drove off, more woods and countryside passed through their eyes.

"How big is the cottage, Mommy?" asked Elysia about their living accommodations.

"Enough for the two of us."

"Did Daddy really grow up here?"

Gracia sighed happily. So much repeating! Then again, Elysia barely remembered this place. She was only a year old when Maes last took her here. "Yes, he lived with your grandfather. Uncle Roy also stayed with them several times."

Elysia looked like she was thinking hard. "Wished I knew Grampa."

Gracia just nodded in sympathy to Elysia's regret. What of the maternal grandfather? Gracia had not seen her father since that fateful night she left the house for Maes. A reunion was probably too late. But it might not be for her daughter. But there could be a danger: 'Grampa' Stern might still be hostile to his late son-in-law. What if he poisoned Elysia's mind against her father? Gracia had no desire to topple that particular idol.

Gracia's thoughts were cut short by the abrupt stop of the bus.

The driver explained it. "Somethin' must have happened on the road."

The bus remained stopped for a few minutes. The driver was informed by a man from outside. "There's an avalanche nearby!"

A company of whispers flooded the room. Gracia didn't need to speak. A former nurse like herself had no choice but to dwell on danger.

"Don't worry." The driver said. "It didn't happen on the road.." The bus continued on its way. Half of the road was full of injured people. They stood out to Gracia. They affected her sympathy the way a drug would do for an recovered addict. But she would not take Elysia out into the mess.

The bus started to pass the lines of casualties. Gracia felt Elysia squeeze her hand. "Mommy, will these people be alright?"

Gracia couldn't respond. Elysia's naïve hopes were so hard to break, especially with the sight before them. People were running all over the place, carrying victims. Some alive, some dead. "Don't look, dear." Gracia embraced her daughter, looking out as the bodies came closer. One man was missing some limbs. Another was covered up. A third had his head and arm popping out of a blanket. He had black hair, a beard, and an eyepatch.

Sight and mind made a flashing impact of recognition. "Please stop the bus!" Gracia shouted. The driver did so, leading mother and daughter to get out. Elysia followed her mother, confused by her direction. That problem ended when she spotted the man. "Unca Roy!"

The two surrounded the man with fear and concern. Roy Mustang looked in very bad shape, though not enough to escape recognition. Nothing, not even the black beard on his face, could hide the patient's true resemblance. Some men came and lifted the patient. Mother and daughter ran close to this moving stretcher. They got some uneasy looks from the carriers.

"It's all right, I was a nurse." A walking Gracia bowed to the patient, calling tenderly. "Roy, it's me."

But the man failed to stir to her calls.

"Mommy, is he…?"

"No, Elysia," Gracia loudly rejected her daughter's fears. From what she saw and experienced from the past and now, Roy's condition did not alarm her. Mother and daughter saw no other choice then to follow the patient. As they walked, they received information. It was revealed that this man was first at the site when the avalanche happened. He led the rescuers to find the victims quickly and efficiently. He took command like a General, described one man. However, some of the ground near to him collapsed, burying him in rubble.

Roy's stretcher was pulled into a truck. Gracia and Elysia than found another vehicle heading to the same destination. Soon they reached a clinic. Gracia was discreet about the patient's identity, giving Roy the last name of Stern. After her 'brother' was taken away, Gracia sat in the hall with Elysia. As far as she was concerned, her daughter had seen enough of damaged bodies. But the shock was not enough to dim her fears about the new patient.

"Will Unca Roy be alright?"

"Yes he will be, dear," Gracia's calm exterior hid her worry.

"Like Daddy?"

With such a question, Gracia could not answer. Instead, she hugged her daughter. Her thoughts were calm on the subject. Roy was her husband's best friend. Not a day went by when Maes wouldn't think or talk about Roy, though in a devotion that hardly troubled Gracia. She never resented the man. It was through Roy that she was introduced to Maes in the first place.

How young they were in those days! Gracia had her internships as a nurse, while Maes and Roy trained to be soldiers. She remembered those days. Of her and the young men enjoying a picnic in their apartment or sunbathing on the top of the building. Whereas Maes acted like this jovial happy-go-lucky gentleman, Roy was serious. Not to mention arrogant and cocky, though not without a heart. He was a jerk in those early days. This changed after the Ishbalan War, portraying a different man. The war had taken a horrible toll on him, just as the streets changed Maes. Both men grew up, for the better.

Gracia came to other memories. Roy Mustang as a patient was nothing new to her. Over a year ago she was with her daughter at a time like this. Then a phone rang. It was Riza. Despite her regard of this unflappable woman, Gracia was surprised to hear her voice so fear-scarred: _Mrs. Hughes…please, it's about Ro...General Mustang. _From what she was able to get, Roy was badly injured. He could not go to a hospital. Gracia interrupted by saying that she take him to the house.

Putting Elysia to bed early, Gracia got the medical kit out and waited. She saw the car coming and allowed it inside the garage door. Riza revealed Roy Mustang drenched in that familiar red liquid. Thus began an urgent task that tried all her retired nursing skills. Gracia was no surgeon, but she knew enough to remove the bullets that remained on Roy's body and treat the wounds. Bandages from the kit were soon exhausted, leading to the use of tablecloths. Riza anxiously kept herself busy ripping the pieces. It was clear that the woman was at the point of shattering, but Gracia lauded her own strength to her.

Despite such fortitude, Gracia was willing to go cry as well. Seeing Roy's grave condition tore her heart. It felt like another part of Maes was going to die. Not as special and important as Elysia, but still a good part. The fear pressured her motivation. She could do nothing to save her only love. But she would be damned if she was going to lose anything else that mattered to him!

Gracia saved Roy's life back then. But now, a year later, Gracia was limited to the role of a bystander.

A doctor came, speaking a hopeful report. 'Mr. Stern' would pull through. He suffered a broken arm and rib. A concussion had rendered him unconscious. When the awakening will occur was a more difficult diagnosis.

That was it. Gracia could now take Elysia to the cottage. But was that really the best course now? The desire felt incomplete, missing something.

Elysia tugged her skirt. "Mommy, can we take Unca Roy wit' us?"

Gracia was stunned by her question, but it was inspiring. The missing piece was found and fit well. "Yes, dear."

* * *

With a nudge of her connections (being a General's widow had its advantages), Gracia had her way. Her 'brother' Roy would be moved to her cottage, where the fresh air and light of nature may prove helpful for his health. A physician named Jon Arrah would drop by everyday to check him. Gracia thought such measures unnecessary, but she agreed due to her present lack of medical authority.

Through a cab, Gracia and Elysia got to the house first. The rented cottage was a nice place. Situated near the woods, it had a porch in the front and back, giving a good view of the trees and sky. Its insides included a small den, a kitchen, and two bedrooms. The new guest meant that Gracia would share a bed with Elysia. The child didn't care. Her 'Unca Roy' was back.

Mother and daughter got to work cleaning and the rooms. Gracia than phoned the town market for food to be transferred. Roy's 'visit' canceled any plan to shop by herself. Gracia hung up and left the phone, though not without the reluctance over shirking a certain priority regarding that machine. Then the ambulance arrived. The men carried Roy's living but motionless form into the requested bed. The patient had seen better days. His head and torso were bandaged. His right arm was held in a sling. He still lay in deep unconsciousness. Not a coma, but still not a comfortable thing to be in. His good left hand was connected to an IV that hung on a post.

Hanging his clothes away, Gracia dressed him in a pair of pajamas given for the cottage resident. His bandaged arm and sling limited the amount of dress around his torso.

Gracia left the room to see the medics off, leaving Elysia in the room. She wasn't disturbed with Roy's wounded appearance. She had gotten used to seeing him like that. She wanted to say so much to him, about how much she missed him, how smart she was getting, etc. Roy looked like a sleeping prince, waiting to wake up with a kiss. That grew ideas into her youthful mind. If a man can do it, why can't she? Daddy did call her a princess. So Elysia climbed onto the bed as best she could. She moved closer to Roy's cool and silent face. She kissed him on his hairy cheek. Nothing.

The disappointment was brief. Oh well. Elysia ran to the other bedroom. Her suitcase had not been emptied yet. She began to take out the contents: clothes, her doll, a stuffed horse, paper, and crayons. Also inside was a picture. The photo showed Daddy and Unca Roy smiling like the friends they were. It was an old one, made when daddy didn't have a beard, and Roy was happy enough to smile (and had both eyes). Elysia found and kept this photo to herself; it was her favorite picture showing together the two most wonderful men ever. She took the picture to Roy's room, putting it on a dresser next to his bed.

Gracia Hughes stared at the phone for a few minutes. A sentence ran into her mind like an endless wheel. _Riza must know_. But her hand did not reach out to fulfill this important goal. Roy's indiscretion was his wish. He did not want anyone to know about his whereabouts. Their presence here was an accident. Should the remnants of that wish be respected? Gracia was a confident woman, but that part was absent right now. She decided not to worry Riza, in case anything went wrong.

A knock came to the door. Gracia quickly answered it. The physician was here. Dr. Jon Arrah was a man in his thirties, with tanned skin and a mustache. Gracia courteously greeted him and led him to the patient. He checked the patient in regular routine, feeling his pulse, forehead, and heartbeat. "All's clear."

Gracia nodded. She could have told him that!

"Nice of you to take him in," A happy man, Arrah always spoke with a smile. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"He is," Gracia decided to reveal some truth. Jon looked like one to be trusted. "His name is Roy Mustang. He was an Alchemist who served the military in Amestris."

Arrah paused. His view of the patient changed, as he looked upon him differently. "I've heard of him. Did he fight in Ishbal?"

Gracia nodded cautiously. "Please don't tell anyone."

Jon quickly smiled. "Secret's safe with me. Funny though. You'd think these Alchemists would be living it up, with the fame and glory of their exploits." He spoke it happily, though this time it came out a bit artificial. At any rate, the words were heard and felt by Gracia, her sadness contrasting with the positive sense the doctor spoke about it. She turned to a different sadness. "He is my late husband's best friend."

Arrah paled with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

Gracia shook her head. "It's alright."

The doctor then turned to the window. Gracia joined him in his view of Elysia playing in the yard. "It's horrible to lose your family." Arrah spoke candidly. "I lost my parents eight years ago." His eyes became drained over that loss.

Gracia understood. "Now it's my turn for apologies."

Jon sighed. "Your daughter must have it worse. I was practically grown up when I lost mine."

The words waved a threat to Gracia. Suddenly Elysia's recovery from her father's death was not entirely satisfactory. Would she forget her father? Maes often regretted never knowing his own mother, having lost her at his birth. What a terrible irony! But Gracia shirked the worry. Schiezska and Falman said Elysia had good memory skills; coming from two people with photographic memories, that was a real compliment. Besides, anyone who met her husband would remember him, even if the meeting lasted only a few minutes. And Maes was there with Elysia for much longer. How could she ever forget him?

* * *

Two days passed. Gracia would make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for Elysia and herself. In between those times, Elysia would run around the cottage, playing or exploring the woods surrounding her. Gracia regularly sat in Roy's room or the porch next to it (The room had franch doors). She either knitted or read. When she wasn't in the room, Elysia would take her place. The girl spoke to the sleeping man, telling about things in her life, and how much she missed him. This was the routine.

Everyday, Gracia gave the patient a sponge bath, cleaning Roy's face and parts of his body. She saw Roy's physique was clearly still fit. It had been a while since she saw a naked man. Especially a man relatively unmarked, in contrast to Maes' scar-cut torso. She missed those scars. Not that Roy was completely unmarked. His chest and back still bore the sword impalement Bradley gave him. Further scrubbing revealed the green dragon tattoo on his good left arm. Roy and Maes got a match prior to their graduation. Roy hated his tattoo. Maes thought his was cute. Gracia shared the same feeling. During the first washing, she spent a few minutes transfixed by that drawing. There were many intimate memories concerning the sight of that tattoo.

Dr. Arrah made his daily check-ups. Roy was becoming his favorite patient, he said. He didn't complain at all about the home visits, making jokes about it. During his checks, he talked about his family. Despite his cheerful attitude, his sad eyes were too clear for Gracia about his actual feelings.

That Wednesday afternoon, Gracia played with Elysia on some weird battle regarding stuffed animals versus an alliance of sticks, pencils, and rocks. Gracia was on the latter's side, moving the pieces as if it was a game of chess. Her daughter had such a resourceful imagination.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dr. Arrah made his entrance.

Gracia arose. "It's okay."

"How's Roy?" He spoke with interest.

"Same place." Gracia spoke without facing, her eyes to the battle.

"Okay, I won't be long." He entered the house. Gracia continued playing with Elysia. Suddenly, the child noted something missing. "Where's my knight?" By that she meant a pencil she was imagining as her kinsman.

Gracia patted her daughter. With a smile of promise, she got up and headed for the porch. She then spotted something through the window. Dr. Arrah had a syringe, extracting something out of an unknown bottle. Gracia was confused. She never saw that treatment before. She ran to the room, opening the door. Dr. Arrah was startled to see her, holding the syringe closely to the IV.

"What are you doing?" Gracia calmly closed the door behind her.

"Just administering medication for the patient." Jon appeared more excited than he was supposed to be.

Gracia saw his medication wrong in her knowledge. A wary feeling darkened inside her. "Give me the bottle."

The doctor blinked. He defended himself. "Mrs. Hughes, I am an experienced doctor."

This time, Gracia would not be polite. "And I am an experienced nurse." She walked closer, raising her hand for want, her voice striking a persuasive chord. "Give me the bottle."

"It's nothing," His face shivered nervously.

"Doctor," Gracia roared her desire. "The bottle!"

Dr. Arrah acted a different thing. He pointed the syringe at her. "Don't move, Mrs. Hughes!" His face danced with an edgy intensity.

Gracia couldn't completely hide her shock. Her mind quickly put the evidence together. The doctor's behavior, a discreet bottle, a syringe applied to the tube. It was the kind of treatment that could cost a patient his life, and a doctor his oath. "Why are you doing this?"

Arrah's answer was free and frantic. "Avenging my people."

The answer filled into Gracia's intelligence, striking sparks of realization. Her response was a cautious whisper. "You're an Ishbalan?"

Surprise was now added to Arrah's face. He bowed his head. "I came to this land to be a doctor." His face sank on reminiscing. "And I was becoming a good one. Until that monster Bradley made his laws against my people. Because my mother was an Amestrisian, I had the skin color to pass off as one of you. And my Chief Surgeon liked me enough to keep my lineage hidden. He let me work when worse men here would have me arrested and shot like a dog." His mouth quivered with fear over that experience. "I was safer here than my people were back at the homeland. My family was destroyed by your nation's State Alchemists." His eyes viciously came on the patient. "Like this monster."

Gracia could recite the point in her head. _Roy led to his family's death._ It was a very familiar sentence. She calmly moved closer to the bed, sitting down. "Then kill me first then."

Dr. Arrah grew paler at this proposition. "Go away. You…can tell everyone. Just let me do this."

Gracia kept to the bed, acting like steel with clay insides. "I can't do that. I told you, my husband was his best friend. He did everything for him as he did for anyone else. He was killed for it."

A link of understanding was found between the woman and the doctor. "Then why don't you hate him?"

Gracia's stance remained emotionless. "Yes, I guess I should. By helping Roy Mustang, Elysia lost her father. I lost the man I loved. But it can't be that simple. Roy didn't mean for that to happen, just as he didn't mean to kill the Ishbalans."

Now ferocity was added to the doctor's glare. But at least he was listening to her words.

"He is a man who has suffered much for what he did in your homeland. Do you see him at Central, living the high life? No. Instead he demoted himself and isolated himself from his loved ones."

The resolve started to relax from the doctor's face. But he reversed it back to rage. He pointed the syringe closer to her. Gracia was going to have to work harder.

"I bet you became a doctor to help people. Very clichéd, but true. Roy wanted to use his Alchemy to help people too. Instead he was forced to kill with it."

Finally, confusion entered the battle. Uncertainty swept over the doctor's vengeful face.

Gracia pressured that confusion with sincerity. "Do you want to do the same thing?"

No response. Gracia arose from the bed. The needle was a foot from her breast.

"Don't become like him. You'll suffer for this the rest of your life. Prove yourself to be the better man."

A few seconds passed. The man stayed on the aggressive. A minute. Would he attack or give up? The man despaired. Both arms lowered like anchors.

Gracia raised her hand again. She got both objects. The bottle was insulin. Injecting this into the IV would kill the patient without any suspicion.

She saw Arrah face her with humble eyes. "You must really love him."

Gracia paused before an answer was made. "Of course I do. He was my husband's best friend. He is my daughter's uncle. He's my friend too."

Dr. Arrah looked very doubtful to that statement.

Elysia then charged into the room. "Mommy, what's taking you so long?"

"Nothing dear," Gracia ran to the wastebasket, dumping the syringe and bottle.

Dr. Arrah attempted a smile. "I think I should be leaving…" The physician made a heavy walk to the door. Gracia said nothing, hiding well the tension and confusion within her.

"Mommy?"

"I-I'm coming, dear."

* * *

A stormy moment like that served to be a prediction. Their game was interrupted by rain. By night, the rainy weather became a storm. And Roy's rescue was short-lived. A fever had arrived on the patient.

After dinner, Gracia sat with her daughter in the other room. Children had no place where fevers were around. Storms always frightened the child, although Elysia tried a brave face with awkward movements of her eyes and hands. Gracia held her hand. She would stay by her side once the thunder and lightning ended.

But as Gracia gave Elysia the support, her thoughts danced to another priority. Dr. Arrah's striking doubt of her feelings. It was normal for a grieving widow to become closer to a husband's friend. It wasn't love. She hadn't seen Roy these many months. He already had Riza waiting for him. And yet, the facts couldn't make the idea waver. Other truths supported the idea. The more Gracia's thoughts paid attention to this detail, the more it explained some things. Her refusal to date again. Her interest in Roy's health. Her hesitance in calling Riza. But the exploration grew scarier. The more she delved, the less she wanted to know.

Loud sounds came from Roy's room.

Suddenly Elysia's fears were not for herself. She ran from her mother and to the other room. Gracia followed. The bed was empty. The IV hung free, dripping liquid and blood. The franch doors were wide open, banging fiercely together.

Gracia thought of every possible idea. Right now she was on the worse one. Then she heard Elysia's voice. "Where's Unca Roy?"

The mother didn't answer. She knew in mind. Gracia ran to the windows, closing them shut. "I'll find him." She took command. "You stay inside, Elysia. You'll catch your death."

Gracia adorned a coat and boots and charged out. The great change of atmosphere came like an impact. The shattering rain upon her form was barely an issue for the woman. The sight was. The area before her looked like a drenched window. It was better if she was looking at it through a real one.

"Roy!" Gracia shrieked. She got interrupted by another's voice.

"Unca Roy!"

Gracia saw Elysia following her. "Elysia get back inside!"

Elysia ignored her. She knelt to her daughter and grabbed her by the shoulders. She roared all her maternal authority in her next words. "Go…inside…now!"

Elysia trembled and quickly did as she was told. Fighting her guilt in this necessary act, Gracia returned to searching for Roy. She walked a few feet to the outskirts of the woods. She looked back at the cottage. Elysia was at the window. Gracia thought a boundary was being stretched. Staying here would mean Roy could be lost or killed in that dark wood. Entering the wood meant abandoning Elysia. Gracia looked to the darkness. "Roy!" she cried again. Nothing. She would have to call for help by the phone.

Suddenly, a force shoved Gracia to the ground. She rubbed against the mud, looking up. Roy was standing, dirty, and insane.

"You're going to die!" He snapped his fingers. Nothing happened.

Gracia tried to rise up, damning the confirmation of her prognosis. "Roy," Her voice trembled. "It's me, Gracia."  
Roy made no recognition. "Die, so I can rise up the ranks!" He spat his words. His hands grappled upon her neck, squeezing. "Die for my glory!"

"Unca Roy!"

The madman turned to that cry, uncertain. Gracia wasted no time. She hit his bad arm, than grabbed the good one. The woman pulled it on her shoulders, sending the man over it. Roy hit the ground and stayed there.

Gracia exhaled in relief. Poor Roy, she thought in so many ways. A new one was his ignorance; he didn't know Maes taught her self-defense. The woman knelt to the unconscious man. The diagnosis was hard in this rain. She touched him. Nerves were ticking. So far so good. But he was still very warm. The fever must have made him delirious. Gracia pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around Roy's torn hand. Then she pulled this arm over her. By this crutch Roy was dragged back to the house. The mud threatened their balance at each step. But Gracia managed.

Finally they were back to the warmth of inside. The sudden lack of falling droplets was indeed a comfort. Roy was laid back into his bed. Gracia pulled off her hood for the fifth time. The wind had undone it the other times.

Elysia stood present. "Is he okay?"

"He will be." Gracia began undressing the man of his drenched clothes. "Get me an extra blanket from the other room."

Elysia dragged the piece, looking very cute in her effort. Fortunately she didn't have to see Roy in the raw. His naked form was already wrapped in bed, snug and hopefully warm. A wet washcloth was placed on his forehead.

* * *

Setting Elysia to bed, Gracia took a brief hot shower. She got out and tied on a robe. She returned to Roy's room. The patient was not having a good sleep. His lips quivered, his breaths heavy, his body flinching and twitching. His arms clutched the covers. His voice kept rising and lowering in cries and illegible words.

The sight was horrible for any sensitive person. Gracia came closer to the bed. She felt his icy hand. The blankets were not warm enough for his body.

The opinion bloomed with details, freezing Gracia. The implications were there. Its idea marched into her head, a very bad one. She touched her robe strap, squeezing the knot tighter.

Roy continued twisting and turning, his words becoming clearer. "No..."

Gracia heard this, almost as if as a warning.

"Stop, please." He whimpered in his delirious sleep. Then he growled. "You fools! Don't you know what you've done?" He tried to sit up. Gracia grabbed the man, keeping his body flat on the bed. The weight she gave him meant closer contact. She smelled him. She arose, very slowly. Her thoughts and emotions on the patient became more than hospitality. The setting was not helpful. It wasn't the first time Gracia lay next to an unconscious man having nightmares. At least Roy wasn't having breathing problems…

"People die," Roy mumbled in strained expressions. "Because of me, people die..."

Gracia pulsed at this vulnerable admission. Was that why Roy left? A new dimension was added to her view. Remove the proud uniform and 'God' attitude, and Roy Mustang was a gentle man holding too many hardships on his shoulders. Of course, the way to such discovery was hardly groundbreaking for her. The clues were there, from the day she first saw Roy after Ishbal, to that day she saw Roy sharing sorrow with his daughter. She joined them on that latter moment. Her arms coddled man and child as they all wept over Maes. For that moment, they were unified in their great love for that great man.

It was an emotional memory, strengthening a very emotional present. She wanted to help this special man, ease his pain, make his troubles go away. And then Gracia realized her hand was on Roy's. He squeezed it. His voice spoke softly. "Riza…"

Gracia did not break the hold. His cold skin was a difference than the heat of this loving gesture. She could fall into it. Her heart trudged like an engine. Her gaze fell on the rest of his arm. The green dragon tattoo on his left shoulder...

Everything stilled within Gracia, except for one repeating thought._ You must really love him._

Yes. She did. But it was too soon. Gracia broke free of the hand, tucking it back under the covers. Afraid of her thoughts, she ran to the other room, changing into a nightgown. But the woman returned to her vigil to Roy. She looked to the picture Elysia brought with them, the one of Maes and Roy celebrating graduation. Maes looked like he was staring at her.

And the picture was supposed to show him with eyes closed.

* * *

Morning came. Gracia awoke, asleep on the chair. She went closer to Roy. He looked still. A feeling on his forehead revealed the fever had broken. She was very happy, but also very aware. She had to do the right thing. Gracia than dialed the phone to Central Command.

"May I speak to Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

The receiving end said it would take a moment.

"Yes, Gracia?"

"Riza, it's about Roy."

Silence. Gracia continued. "We saw him."

"Is he all right?"

"He suffered from some injuries. But he'll pull through."

Still more silence. It was worse than the sound of scratching a chalkboard. "I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier. He's staying with us."

More silence. "Riza! Stop it! I'm in no mood for this!" Realizing her outburst, Gracia turned to a quick calm. "If you want to see him, come."

Then came an answer. "I'll think about it."

More shots at her nerves! The phone returned to its place. It felt like lowering an anvil. Hopefully things would be better now.

Gracia phoned for Dr. Arrah. The man returned, almost a different person. Very serious and nervous. "How's the patient?" He spoke with apprehension.

"He had a fever, but it's okay now." Gracia didn't bring up the events of the previous day.

"Mommy!" cried Elysia from Roy's room. Gracia and the doctor ran to the room.

Gracia became a statue with what she saw. Roy was sitting up! His expressions, disoriented and confused, were aware. He looked back at her, surprised at her presence.

"Unca Roy!" Elysia jumped upon the bed and hugged the man. He cringed at this display on his raw bandaged body.

"Elysia, get off of him," Gracia calmly asked. She felt like doing the same thing. As a result of knowing this, she went very quiet.

Roy appeared disoriented. "Where am I?"

He looked to the stranger, who awkwardly responded. "I…I'm Dr. Arrah."

Shortly after, Gracia explained things while Arrah made a check on Roy. "Looks like your condition has improved. Expect to use that arm again in a few days." He snickered way too much. Once finished, Dr. Arrah couldn't wait to leave the room. Gracia followed him out.

"Well, he will make a quick recovery. The rib is healed. The arm's on it's way."

Gracia was glad to hear the news.

Arrah put on his coat. "And that's all from me," His words were cheerful; his voice lacked conviction.

"And the bill?" Gracia asked.

The physician raised his palm. "Forget about it." He acted anxious. "It's free."

"Dr. Arrah," Gracia grabbed his protesting hand. She gazed toward him without condemnation. "Nothing happened. Remember that."

Arrah's smile lost what little strength it had, his expression returning to the guilt of the plan that never happened. He averted his eyes away. "Mr. Mustang must be a very special man to have you care for him."

As if his words were an incantation, Gracia fell into a spell. She didn't notice Arrah breaking his hand free from her. She saw him leave, but her thoughts were what she really noticed.

* * *

Roy's awakening did not mean a happy ever after. He kept a silent, lone stance in his bed. His injuries were probably a lesser ailment than his emotional state. He had relapsed to the anti-social form he was during the aftermath of killing Bradley. Gracia now felt sorry for Riza. She understood her distress now.

But despite this sympathy, or perhaps because of it, Gracia limited her attention to Roy. He had become a poisonous snake. She risked danger being near him.

Elysia had no inhibitions. She repeated her adventures to him. Roy responded to her with a nod. The girl than ran outside. It was afternoon now, the rainy night given way to a sunny day. But the sun was moving away from the room. Gracia did nothing.

Roy attempted to get out of bed. Gracia made a few steps of her own. She stopped. Roy walked to the outside unaided, about ready to fall at every step. Gracia grabbed a chair, planting it underneath the man. He sat down. He looked ready to sink into the furniture.

"Gracia…"

The mention of her name could make Gracia explode. But she carried on in a cool demeanor, her resistance like a brick wall. "Yes, Roy?"

Roy gave his profile to her. "Thank you." It was a cool display of gratitude.

"It was nothing." A brick in the self-control wall fell. Not a collapse yet. "What kind of wife would I be if I turned my back on my husband's best friend? Besides, it makes Elysia happy." She capped it with a little smile. Roy didn't notice. He didn't appear interested in anything.

The silence mostly continued for the remainder of the day. It got to a point where Gracia could recite the few words Roy made. For instance: "Have you met…anyone?"

"No." Gracia fought the advantage of that question. "I'm still…in the mourning phase. Besides, I never considered myself that much a prize for men."

Roy added a comment. "Maes fell for you like a stack of bricks."

Predictably, another brick fell. The warmth of that compliment made Gracia blush. She walked to the edge of the porch. She was clearly making a poor resistance! The younger Gracia who held her guard against Maes' overtures for so long would be shocked.

"Elysia appears okay," Roy spoke again.

"She's been fine." And then the resistance mostly dissipated. No matter what her feelings were, Roy was a friend. So she related how his former subordinates kept the child busy. "But she misses you most of all."

Roy said nothing about it.

"Unca Roy!" Elysia ran back into the house, brandishing flowers. "I got 'em f'r ya!"

"Thank you." Roy calmly greeted this present. Elysia put the flowers in a cup. Roy watched this, a sliver of feeling in his obsidian eye. Gracia than remembered the avalanche rescue that injured him. Roy Mustang was far from dead yet.

* * *

The day passed uneventfully. Roy either stayed at the porch or went to bed. No more words were shared. A few hours into the night, Gracia put Elysia to bed. The child wanted to stay up more to talk to Roy, but Gracia was insistent. Afterwards, she found Roy still at his chair. He had eaten a little of the dinner she gave him. He spoke again. "Do you hate me?" Pain appeared in his desolate voice.

Gracia was quick with the answer. "No. I don't blame you for what happened. Maes wanted to help you, no matter what."

Roy turned his eye upon her. Now she had his attention.

"We all die, Roy. Whether its natural or inflicted, it happens to all of us. Even you Alchemists haven't found a cure yet."

Roy bowed his head.

"What matters is how we live that life. Maes did us both proud. He decided not to let the past bother him. I think you helped him a lot in that."

Roy turned to show his profile to her. Her words were not helping.

"What…I'm trying to say is, don't think he died because of you. Instead, it's because of you he actually lived."

Roy faced her again, his expression finally bearing something close to feeling. His words still proved contradictory. "Cut the modesty, Gracia. That was your work, not mine. Maes told me once that he wanted to drop the happy face because of this shitty world, but you made it easier for him to smile."

Gracia's heart turned at this compliment. Call her selfish, but she was glad to hear it. But she won't be undone. "Then let's make it a joint effort, Roy." Gracia knelt beside him. "We both made him live, along with someone else." She touched his hand.

Roy looked at her, and smiled. "Agreed," His eye grew higher. He touched her face, caressing it. "Then let's make this joint effort a beautiful one." Gracia paused, her walls starting to topple. Roy was giving off some attractive power. The language of his voice and gestures played hypnotically. Gracia dimmed her eyes.

And Roy came closer, with romantic intentions. It was so lovely, so passionate, so unconvincing.

Anger now was in Gracia's heart. The eyes snapped wide. "Forget it, Roy!" She turned her face free. She arose to her feet, taking on a calculated air of false civility. "Let me guess? Some passionate 'roll in the hay'? Then what? I feel guilty about betraying Maes' memory, and decide to alienate myself from you?"

Roy looked at her in cold surprise.

"Or maybe you were going to say or do something nasty to me? Either way, I'd make sure Elysia never comes a hundred feet close to you."

Roy's piercing eye descended.

"Then you'll probably continue in your self-pity party, assured that all your friends hated you, therefore making them safe from you. Safe from your delusion of being some sort of death-magnet! Am I correct?"

Roy covered his face. The truth.

The evidence tore into Gracia's emotional insides. "I'm not a saint, no matter how much Maes told you, but I'm not stupid." She rubbed her face in frustration. "Being married to a man who knew when to hide his feelings taught me a lot of what's true and fake." Her voice grew in volatile audibility. "And Maes did the same act too. After he killed people, he was convinced he was something evil. He thought he didn't deserve anything. But he had the strength to understand, to overcome his fears."

"Stop it!" Roy protested, looking ashamed.

"Same old Roy, thinking this is always about you." She marched around the room in full anger. Hell may hath no fury than a woman scorned, but a woman being manipulated was even worse. "You men can be so stupid! Always ready to martyr yourselves, thinking it'll protect others! Well, here's a viewpoint from the other side. Lonely security isn't everything. If I knew Maes would die, I would still share my life with him. I'm thankful of what we had, and what we still have!" Gracia stopped cold. Her face grew pressured, surprised by this anger.

Ashamed, Roy displayed the eye patch side of his face to the woman.

Gracia felt an urge to run away and hide in embarrassment, but she held on. "I'm sorry, Roy." She made a pause of silence before speaking again. "I'm not you. I'm not a soldier. But I've known death and the failure to stop it. It happens. What I do know is that you can't do this alone."

That was it. She had come to the end of her fortitude. Gracia came closer, tucking Roy's blanket. "Get some rest."

* * *

It appeared Roy would not get much sleep this night. The same appeared to be true for Gracia. She couldn't sleep in a bad mood, let alone a remorseful one. She really laid it thick on Roy. But the man had to understand that hurting people for their benefit never worked. She looked to Elysia, sleeping soundly beside her. More dread came. If Roy had broken her heart again…

But as hard it seemed to achieve it, sleep granted its power on Gracia. She awoke to find empty space on the bed. Alert raised her up to search. She opened the door to the next room. Roy's bed was empty too. Except for a note.

_I'm sorry. Took Elysia out. Will return._

Gracia sighed. Roy had learned his lesson.

* * *

Elysia remembered waking up very early. She saw Roy standing before her, whispering to her. "Don't wake up your mother. Get dressed." Elysia obeyed with excitement. She carefully got out of bed and did what was asked. Then the two went outside and walked to the road. They stopped a bus and got in it.

"Where are we goin'?"

"I want you to meet some people."

Roy took the flowers Elysia gave him. The child brought stuff of her own. One was a picture she drew last night. "I made this f'r you Unca Roy." Elysia pointed who were in the crayon picture. There was Daddy, always happy, with a beard and glasses. He was holding hands with Mommy and Uncle Roy. He was the one with the large black hair, the eyepatch and a frown.

Roy did not smile. He just nodded his head.

Elysia than pointed to the yellow-haired girl she drew holding hands with Roy. "That's Aunt Riza."

Roy's eye became a little larger. "You've seen her a lot?"

Elysia nodded with a yes. "She takes me to the park a lot. We even ride a horse together. She misses you."

Then Roy looked a little sadder. Elysia knew Riza missed him a lot. It looked like he missed her a lot too. But Elysia liked to think that it was herself that Unca Roy missed a whole lot more. She then talked about her other aunts and uncles helping her. Uncle Breda took her to see pictures and statues. Uncle Jean made her pretend he was her uncle whenever pretty women came.

"Really?" The way Roy said that word, was not how Elysia would say it, all loud and surprised.

Roy folded the picture and put it in his pocket. Elysia was concerned. To see Roy all right after a few days of being sick was weird. "Are you really okay?"

Roy nodded. "I am. All healed up." He shook what was supposed to be his bad arm. Elysia saw him do all sorts of things one shouldn't do with a bad arm. Elysia got happy again.

"I bet Gracia told you a lot about this town."

Elysia nodded her head very quickly. "Mommy said you and daddy grew up here."

"Not quite. I was born here, but I lived wherever my father was stationed."

The bus came to a stop at the town. The two then walked to a small cemetery. For Elysia, it was a different place from the one at Central. The tombstones were not in a line or looked the same. These stones had different shapes, with tall ones, small ones, some dirty, some clean. Roy gave Elysia some of his flowers. The girl wondered who they were going to see. Roy stopped before two tombstones. Elysia recognized them.

_Joshua Hughes 1848-1904 _

_Alicia Merron Hughes 1860-1885_

Elysia walked closer to these graves, kneeling down. These people were her grandparents! Her own name sounded the same as her Gramma's, though the letters looked different. She remembered their faces in photographs. She saw pictures of Grampa and Daddy, and pictures of Grampa and Gramma, but never one with Gramma and Daddy (that was because Gramma went away when Daddy was born). The girl wondered why they weren't buried near Daddy. Seeing these stones reminded her of Daddy's stone. Now she felt just like Unca Roy.

Elysia had to say something to Roy. "Whenever I got mad at Mommy f'r tellin' me wot t' do, Daddy always told me t' do wot she said. He said I was very lucky t' have a mommy 'cause he didn' have one."

"He told me a lot about how he missed not having a mother." Roy said.

"Just like me without Daddy?"

Roy grew even sadder. "You remember your father, don't you?"

Elysia nodded a lot. She did remember! She really did! She would never forget him! Never, ever, ever! But Roy frowned. Sometimes Elysia felt okay seeing Roy looking sad whenever Daddy was mentioned. She knew Roy loved Daddy as much as she and Mommy did. But sometimes she didn't like both of them feeling sad about Daddy.

"Daddy can see his Mommy now, right?"

Roy didn't say anything, but Elysia believed she was right anyway.

Elysia talked to the stones. "I wish I can see you, Grampa and Gramma. Do you see Daddy wit' ya? He was a vewy gweat Daddy t' me."

And then Elysia didn't feel like talking to them anymore. Her heart felt bad.

She saw Roy still holding his flowers. He waved his hand to her and walked away. Elysia followed him. Over a hill they came to another pair of stones.

_Erik Roy Mustang 1864-1895_

_Gemma Graven Mustang 1864-1892_

Elysia became surprised at these names. She had an idea who they were.

Unca Roy said it before she could say anything. "These are my parents, Elysia." He put the flowers before the tombstones. He did nothing else. "Do you mind if I gave these to them?"

Elysia shook her head.

Then Roy was quiet again, looking at the stones.

"Aren't ya gonna talk t' y'r Mommy an' Daddy?"

"You don't always need words to speak."

"Oh," said Elysia. She faced the graves. "Y'r son's a vewy gweat unca t' me." If Roy couldn't do it, she can.

Still Roy looked very sad. Elysia probably knew it was something else than seeing his Mommy and Daddy, or thinking about her Daddy. It was something worse.

"You're leavin' gain?" Elysia asked, a little scared.

Unca Roy was surprised. He looked away. "I can't return."

Elysia bowed her head. She wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to run away. Daddy wouldn't like it.

Then she heard Roy speak more. "At least not yet."

Elysia felt a little better from those next words. Roy made her feel that anything can happen, no matter how bad things were. She would never give up on it. One day, Unca Roy would return. She had to make sure of that. The girl took off her necklace and gave it to him. "Daddy gave this t' me. Ya will give it back t' me, won'tcha?"

Roy lifted his hand. Elysia dropped the jewelry into it.

"Pwomise?"

Roy didn't say anything again. He grabbed her hand. They left the cemetery hand in hand.

* * *

Gracia cooked some potatoes on the small stove. She thought of Roy and Elysia, not with caution. Roy would rather shoot himself then ever think of hurting Elysia again. With that confirmation, she dared to hope. Perhaps her words did have an effect? Roy could finally be willing to start his life again, rejoining them as a friend. _As a friend._ If there was romance implied in that desire, Gracia forbid it. If Roy wanted Riza, than she would not intervene. She had her time of happiness with the man she loved. No point in stealing it from another.

The door opened. "Mommy!" Elysia made her loud entrance.

"Dear, where did you go?" Gracia embraced her daughter. "Did you have a good time?"

Elysia nodded. Gracia saw her and nothing else at the door. "Where's Roy?"

Mother and daughter walked onto the porch. They saw an empty yard.

The girl wandered a few steps. "Unca Roy was just out here."

A daughter's puzzlement did not match her mother. Gracia steeled herself to the message this space gave out. Right or wrong, it had to happen.

Elysia turned to her mother. "Did Unca Roy go again?" Her face showed the awareness of the truth.

Gracia tensed herself to confirm her suspicions. "Yes." She knelt to her daughter, touching her shoulders. "I'm sorry if this isn't the best holiday for you."

Elysia shook her head to her mother's apology. "It's the best!" She made a jovial wacky grin. Just like her father. It was too much. Tears stained Gracia's face. "Oh my darling."

The side of her eyes noticed something. A figure appeared at the yard. The two confronted a new visitor.

Elysia saw her on the spot. "Aunt Riza!"

Riza walked closer, both curious and afraid.

Gracia's disappointment grew. But she greeted Riza.

The woman read their faces. "Did he leave?" Riza expected no answer to what was apparent.

Gracia sighed. Resuming a cool face, she patted the woman's shoulder. "Come in, I'm making lunch."

Elysia gave support as well, pulling Riza's hand. Together, the three went back to the house.

* * *

Roy Mustang checked his lodgings. He missed it for a week. Now it was time to leave. He had done what he came here for.

The man moved with a cringing pain. His arm was practically numb with all those demonstrations. But he endured worse. Roy changed from the damaged clothing he wore into a better one. He took out the suitcase from the corner and packed up the few belongings he had. He added one piece. The necklace.

Roy peered at this jewelry with ambiguous feelings. Why did he accept this promise from Elysia? The idea of going back to Central still was a strong block for him. He didn't want to see anyone die because of him. But his comeback wouldn't be resented. Gracia wouldn't. She understood. It was a heavy consideration Roy made over the strong tie he had with that family; he could leave the Hughes's, but the Hughes's could never leave him. Every time he reached the lowest of despair, a Hughes always helped him up. From Joshua, to Maes, to Elysia, to Gracia, that family gave him hope. They still did.

He was tempted to make a new promise. One day, when he was able to come to terms with Maes Hughes' death…

When he was able to win over his demons…

When he can understand death and its happenings without self-guilt...

When he overcame these problems, he would return and give Elysia her necklace back.

But the present road before him was a hopeless one.

To Be Continued

* * *

Next Time: Roy finally returns to Central and Elysia…on the eve of an invasion from another world! (Yes, you know what I'm talking about!)

Also this month: a new story about Maes and Gracia!


	5. Rekindling

Unca Roy

Chapter 5: Rekindling

By Claudius

* * *

_This isn't like him._

Such a thought dominated Roy Mustang's melancholic mind. Maes Hughes' grave remained unchanged since the two years it was first used. And still Roy had trouble believing his best friend lay six feet under there. Maes Hughes was the epitome of life, a man with the courage to live life to the fullest no matter its trials. This representation looked like a mockery of the man. But reluctance could do little to change the truth: Hughes' corpse was really buried down there; another victim of Roy's mistakes. The vengeance reaped on the monster responsible did nothing to soothe the guilt. His cool, somber face hid well the agony of this loss.

"It would be nice to say your death is the worst I ever experienced," Roy somberly intoned aloud, "but it's not the only one. You're right up there, though." So he was conversing with a grave? So what? He saw Elysia do it. "I'm sorry if I haven't been around much. For you, and your daughter."

Roy had flowers in his hand. He placed the bouquet upon the grave. Next came a salute to the superior officer (Bradley promoted Hughes to Brigadier General posthumously; quite a joke, Roy lamented). Then he departed the grave. It had been two years since he was last here. A lot happened since, with little accomplished. Roy experienced the few weeks after Fuhrer King Bradley's assassination in great suffering. Then, through the help of others, that burden lightened to a good existence. But it was brief; Roy saw himself as a danger to the friends that remained. He left Amestris and hid his identity. He thought being alone would make things better. Instead solitude brought loneliness. The accidental visit by the Hughes Family last year convinced Roy to come out of hiding. So he took up a post in the North. His rank bore the Corporal position, a sad end to the once promising Flame Alchemist. Still, nothing changed in his sad, still lonely life. The visit by Havoc and Breda brought more regret and disillusionment of his self-exile. Roy missed them, as he did the others. Riza. Elysia. Gracia.

But it wasn't until the earthquakes that Roy decided to do something. He heard the reports on Liore. A small army of armored men appeared out of a transmutation circle in the city square. The fact that every city in the nation was hit by tremors at the same time provided a connection. Alphonse Elric's presence at Liore added to the possibility. That put the absent Edward Elric into consideration. For Roy, the theory of the Fullmetal Alchemist's participation interested him very much. It gave him a desperate hope for salvaging one of his mistakes. He brought the Brothers Elric into this mad play. Their role in it became unresolved. Alphonse had his body restored (minus his memories during his armored years), with his elder brother vanished. But the younger brother never believed Edward died. Roy believed in his survival as well, though Edward's present absence without his brother was yet another casualty that haunted him. But this incident brought hope of his return. A few years had softened Roy's pride over that short troublemaker. Now Roy could accept Edward as his better. Edward didn't follow stupid orders, or fail his friends. Nor was Edward's hands, as dirty they were, stained with innocent blood. No matter the trials, Fullmetal maintained his idealism and compassion.

And Roy hoped for Fullmetal's comeback, so the Brothers can be reunited. Then the journey started by a failed human transmutation will end happily. And he, Roy Mustang, helped make that possible! Thus, one decision of his proved completely worthwhile. His career would not be an absolute lie anymore. Could this mean some peace of mind?

But another matter also existed in his return. Roy knew danger was coming to Central City. Some unknown force will invade. Liore was just a prologue of this threat. Now Roy had to take part again. It was one thing to feel his actions will cause harm to the ones he held dear. To do nothing as harm came regardless was quite another. For better or worse, he had to help.

How he can provide that help was a question. Roy looked at his hands. The fire he could create had been long vacant, its last hurrah the killing of Bradley. That action, like the other times, haunted Roy. His vengeful motive gave the final word on how his Alchemy harmed this world. Still, the loss was not through a lack of effort. Every time Roy concentrated, his mind became pillaged by memories of the destruction he created by his alchemy, the betrayal of his ideals. Flame Alchemy was not a tactic anymore. The threat will have to deal not with the Flame Alchemist, but Corporal Roy Mustang, soldier.

And yet for such a final dismissal, Roy still had his gloves in his pocket.

* * *

Roy sat on a bench shared by an old woman. He sat quietly, ignoring the city that once was his home. His one piece of attention was the photograph in his hand. Elysia Hughes. Her father thought her the most precious thing in his life. Roy thought so too.

His sight did not escape the attention of his fellow benchmate. "Is she yours?"

"No," answered Mustang, putting the picture into his pocket. "I don't have that honor." He arose and left for another place. Roy had called the girl's mother before going to the cemetery. Seeing the woman in person was an obstacle he didn't want to face yet. Not that phoning made things immensely easier. Nevertheless, Gracia Hughes' response did sound welcoming. Roy had also thought a lot about his best friend's widow, ever since that awkward moment a year ago. Perhaps this interest was built on remorse. He made a shallow move on her, and the guilt drove him to act sincerely affectionate. Roy used that reason to refuse any strong feelings resonating about her. The fact that Gracia was also Mrs. Maes Hughes helped in that defense.

Last but not least in that morale was Riza Hawkeye. Nevertheless, Roy had made no contact with his closest subordinate at all in these two years. The period lacked a single message or visit from her. Maybe she didn't want to see him, a pathetic, depressed shell of a man. Maybe she was obeying his wishes. Maybe she found someone else, like Havoc. Maybe he was thinking too much. Being constantly alone does fiddle with one's reason.

As Roy walked again, anxiety still lingered. He guessed it was normal to be like that, seeing friends missing from his life for a long time. Such 'normalcy' he could do without, considered his destination. He originally planned on heading to Central Command, and the underground city where Fullmetal was last seen. But Roy went to a school instead. Elysia wrote about this place in a letter Roy received, given and translated by Havoc and Breda. The info was surprising indeed. Elysia, now a schoolgirl! Time had really moved swiftly. Roy wished he were present in the child's first experience on the first day. From what he heard, Riza, Breda, Havoc, Feury, Falman, and Schiezska did just that.

Now he will see her. Whatever his problem with Gracia, Roy wanted to see Elysia. But Roy was not fully secure about meeting the girl. What if she resented his absence? What if she forgot him? Roy shunned the fear. Elysia could not forget. She had her father's heart, very hard to close. This belief strengthened him as he reached the gate. He heard voices. From outside the wall he spotted a stout girl cowering under some boys. This had to stop, and Mustang got ready to make his move. Then he heard the charge of a new voice. "Leave her alone, you meanies!"

Roy saw another child wedging between tormented and tormentors. The sight of this girl's furious appearance made his eyebrows lift. Elysia. Time had made differences on her. She was now a little taller, her chubby arms and legs beginning to lengthen and thin. Her face began to develop as well, showing her mother's soft cheeks, and her father's jaw.

The boys glared at the newcomer. Elysia stared defiance, her stance a stunning display to the one-eyed witness. Those blue-green pupils of hers may be Gracia's. But the soulful determination and strength they displayed? That was Maes. Sure enough, the boys' resolve proved shorter than Elysia's. They went silent, which led to dispersion and scattering. One of the boys ran near Mustang's hidden direction. Elysia quickly softened toward her friend. "It's alright, Greta."

Hiding back outside, Mustang felt at ease over the girl's resolution. The girl was doing well. But pride deflated as Roy's eye returned to sighting that boy. He picked up a stone. Roy's anger came in a second, his action following it a second later. The stone-hand was grabbed. Discretion over. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Roy's tone was a quiet warning of worse consequence.

The kid defied the stranger, before he got a look at his angry face. "I was once the Flame Alchemist," said a voice of sinister intentions. "I burned things…and people. I don't really like kids."

The boy shrank and cowered. Release led to a quick escape away from Elysia's direction. Unfortunately, Roy's rescue brought the attention of all the children. Including one curious girl. Quickly did her two eyes meet his one! Both stood very still. Then the doubt of familiarity in Roy's mind was banished. Elysia beamed an incredible smile. "Unca Roy!"

Roy made no effort to refuse an embrace. He gave openly, and Elysia accepted it openly. He saw Elysia's happiness quickly break into sobs. Roy embraced her closer. "I know," he calmly spoke. "I missed you too." He placed Elysia back to her feet. The child rubbed her eyes free of any sadness. "Here," Roy gave her a handkerchief.

A woman came out of the school, crying out for the children to come back in. Elysia tugged the Corporal to follow her. Roy submitted to being a possible trophy.

"Miss Delskia," Elysia happily greeted the teacher. "This is my Unca Roy!"

Miss Delskia, startled, smiled with widened eyes. "Elysia told me and her classmates so much about you."

"Yes, I hope you don't mind..."

"Of course not!" Delskia thwarted the apology with friendliness. Perhaps a little too friendly, Roy thought. He still has it! "Elysia's been waiting for you for so long. I guess I can let her out early...just for today." She firmly made her exception clear.

Elysia snapped with excited glee. Roy wasn't exactly as willing, but a Hughes was always hard to turn down.

"You get your bag," Miss Delskia finished the admission. "I'll call your mother."

* * *

Man and child walked down the street. Strangers could find the grim-faced adult and cherubic child a strange sight. But familiars would find it a nice parallel to Roy's relationship with the girl's father. Elysia stayed her usual talkative self, speaking every important, mundane, or trivial thing that came from the top of her evolving head. Roy listened to every word. He remembered every important, mundane, or trivial thing her father said to him. He could resent the kid for symbolizing everything that was Maes Hughes. A reminder to Roy on how his stupidity robbed this girl of such a great father (and a great friend). But the effect was opposite. True, Elysia gave a heavy reminder of his best friend. But through her, Maes Hughes still lived.

Roy took something out of his pocket. "I'm returning this to you." To Elysia's expectations, she saw the necklace she gave him. He put it around Elysia's neck. It was cross-shaped, with what looked like a scrap of bone in the middle. Some religious trinket, Roy presumed. Maes' posthumous birthday gift.

"Do ya wear the pajamas?" Elysia asked innocently.

Roy was tongue-tied on that one. He nodded. Then he talked about other things. "I saw you protecting that girl."

Elysia bore no reluctance. "Greta's my best friend. Those boys're always so mean!" A frown lowered her lips. Rather cute.

"Good job."

The praise made Elysia's face color to red.

Roy felt some nostalgia to share. "I remember when your father and me were kids, and we were attacked by bullies. They threw your dad, fat kid he was back then, into the mud. I stood up against them, unwilling to let them continue."

"You saved my dad?" Elysia showed her curiosity.

"No," Roy spoke deadpan. "The bullies ganged up on me. Just then, from behind, your dad pounced on one of them. Very impressive, with his weight. Then and later, he always looked after me." The reminiscence having reached its tolerable limit, Roy quit talking on the subject. Too bad its successor was equally problematic. "How are my colleagues?"

Sure enough, Elysia spoke first of the one who gave him the biggest unease. "Riza's teaching me how to ride a pony."

"Really?" Roy made a fake smile. He regretted not teaching Elysia himself.

"And Unca Breda's takin' me to the museum…" Elysia sputtered her words as the day dimmed prematurely. Roy looked up at the strangeness. The sun was undergoing an eclipse. Elysia shivered in astonishment. Roy's mood darkened to cynical reality. Talk about bad omens. Not now!

With no concern of his choice, worse things happened. The ground shook. People normally walking paused than scattered from the scene. Roy's watch took on an insightful level. They had arrived. Which means Fullmetal…

Roy's thoughts were shattered by Elysia's embrace. He reciprocated with courage. "It's going to be okay. Unca Roy's here."

"I wan' my mommy."

Roy just patted the girl's cheek. "It'll be okay." His belief was unfortunately the opposite. He should have gone to Central Command first. Now that destination will be the best choice for Elysia's safety. If they get there, that is. He separated from the girl's embrace, only bonding with her hand. The two quickly moved, avoiding cracking floors and fleeing civilians.

From a distance arose pillars of fire, its noise deafening with awesome vibrations. Bricks and wood started coming off the roofs, tumbling with descent. Roy and Elysia narrowly escaped one of these attacks. Roy looked up to watch for anything more. His eye spotted things in the sky. Incredible things. His amazed study saw giant ships flying without balloon canvases. These vessels were faster and more maneuverable than balloons. They swerved and moved like birds of prey. Coincidence was lost on Roy's keen sense. The invasion had begun.

Roy rued the short time he wasted for this situation. His useless Alchemy now showed like a sore thumb, with cuts and lacerations. At least nothing else of his abilities atrophied. His cleverness and strategic abilities remained razor sharp. His body was back in perfect condition. He needed these now.

"Elysia," Roy knelt to his charge. "We have to get to Central Command. I'm not going to lie to you. This trip will be very dangerous. I ask that you have faith in me."

Elysia nodded. The two were off again.

* * *

The eclipse lost its influence in darkening the city. Smoke shrouded the sky, the sight complimented by the ruined towers and buildings. Central City looked like it was going to die. With that soliloquy, Roy set his worries on Elysia. All this destruction can leave a bad mark on a six-year-old. Indeed, that fear came represented by her question. "Why they doin' this t' us?"

Roy couldn't find the answer. The question might as well be coming out of the tongue of an Ishbalan child, or any child victim of Amestris and the Homunculus. He couldn't throw a brick in the glass house. Nor did the event lack irony. What comes around, goes around. Central will suffer the same destruction it brought other nations! One could call it justice, but Roy didn't relent to that point. This retribution missed its real target, with the destruction of the Homunculus. No matter the nation's past wrongs, it can't fall! He was born in this city, Elysia as well. Bad or good, this place was still important. Many of its inhabitants shared the innocence of the Ishbalans and Liorians. Their deaths can never be justified.

More explosions came. The flying ships reaped destruction through power that must be Alchemaic. Another fitting use of irony, Roy bitterly thought. Before them were streets and roads blocked by leveled buildings and walls of smoke. Loud sounds and screams gave an idea on what the smoke covered. Roy and Elysia found their paths very limited. There was only one clear path to Central Command. A hard one, in Roy's thinking.

A sound arrived, growing louder. Roy instantly jumped on Elysia, burying her with his body. He felt wind, heat, and debris knocking against him. Then came a silence. Movements revealed no serious injury. Roy arose. Elysia failed to do so. She cradled herself like a ball, shivering and cowering. "Don't…" She muttered.

"Elysia?" Roy touched her shoulder.

The child flinched._ "Don't bury me!"_ Her frantic cry repeated like a screeching record. "Don't bury me!"

"What?" Roy was puzzled by this trauma, until memory found a connection with the past. _Why are they burying daddy?_ Realization came with shock and sadness. Elysia had scars. Roy strongly fought the sorrow; he had no time to deal with it right now. He pulled the child up. "It's okay, Elysia."

Elysia grew in hysterics, shaking, crying, and screaming. It crossed Roy's patience in this dangerous hour. His hand slapped her face. Now guilt replaced anger. Good one, Roy! The success in silencing her meant nothing. He began apologetic, but his voice changed to an overwhelming declaration. "I won't let them bury you, Elysia! Just as your father looked after me, I will protect you!"

Elysia's quivering slowed, still a little frightened. But she grew silent and calmer. She said nothing more as they continued their run. The foreboding path, taken with no choice, reached its peak. The park gave no physical threat to Roy. Not physical. This park was where Hughes lost his life. And Roy needed it to save his daughter. If anything happened to Elysia, he would never forgive himself. More so.

The entrance made to cross the area appeared well, in a grim, dangerous sorta way. But Roy's experience showed silence and emptiness could be a trick. Sure enough, winds increased, presenting a ship flying above them. Something came out of its tail. As Roy watched, this debris grew closer and more recognizable. Giant armored invaders hit the ground without any gentle landing. Such impact could kill, but these beings arose without the slightest injury. Roy recalled their description. These were the same things that attacked Liore. They all resembled Alphonse Elric. Not the amnesiac boy searching for his brother, but the ensouled suit of armor he knew. But these were no kindred spirit to that literally Fullmetal Alchemist. Their mechanical movements showed no respect to anything before them. They pointed their rifles haphazardly, pointing and firing them at anything. Their possible lack of independent thought made them by no means inviolate. These monsters were no longer human.

Roy turned around. A small group of these monsters appeared from behind. He and Elysia were surrounded. No choice but to fight out of here. Roy adorned his gloves. It was a time for omens.

The enemy came closer. Their ornate armor added to the fright of their threatening forms. Alphonse, for all his metal glory, could never be this menacing. So far, Roy noted, none of them were pointing their rifles at their direction. Roy felt Elysia tugging his leg. He pulled out a gun and fired. The bullets ricochet off the monster's armor. Roy knew he was no Riza. His firearm exhausted, Roy discarded it.

Elysia knelt to his leg, keeping him there. No choice now. He pointed his arm, snapping his fingers. A small spark crackled from the rub. Nothing more.

They came closer. Roy kept his struggled calm for the last time. He snapped repetitiously. Each step the monsters came closer, synched by every futile snap of the fingers Roy made. As ever, the inability dominated. The thoughts, the images of what he had done, towered like an unbreakable wall. But he couldn't stop now! Still his fingers snapped and snapped. And still nothing and more nothing. As danger increased, so did Roy's frustration and guilt. His thoughts drowned in the 'good' he did, the people he failed. _The Ishbalans…_

_Snap!_

_The Rockbells…_

_Snap!_

_Selim…_

The futility was realized. Roy separated his thumb and finger, squeezing his hand into a fist. All awareness disintegrated in his mire of failure. _Maes. _"I failed you." Roy whispered in thought and voice, lost in his tortured world.

"Unca Roy!"

The scream broke this somber concentration. Roy saw a monster six feet before Elysia. His mind typed a statement. _She will die!_

One cold, vengeful eye fell upon the monsters. Roy Mustang again threw his hand against them. His fingers snapped for the umpteenth time. A small spark of energy appeared and increased. A second later, a bloom of fire engulfed the monsters before them.

A repeated effort created an inferno that cleaned the area of them.

The ordeal successfully deflected, Roy felt a wave of shock, fear, and relief. He looked at Elysia, shaken but very safe. She had given him the key he needed: The desire to help people. That altruism was the fundamental reason he became an Alchemist. Ishbal harmed that desire. The failure of his belief grew with the failure to save his best friend. Destroying Bradley for revenge finally closed that power. He must have subconsciously sealed it, believing it can never be used for anything besides bringing death. But seeing Elysia endangered was too much. The shock destroyed the seal. The Flame Alchemist was back.

But this was the first time Elysia saw him like this. Roy steeled himself for her frightened response.

"Wowie!" Elysia gaped, eyes twinkling with amazement.

It made Roy's ego soar. "Thank you." He had finally achieved a victory he could be proud of. "C'mon." He pulled Elysia, continuing their escape.

And then came a gunshot.

Elysia's hand grew heavy. Roy saw her fall. His frozen stance saw pride quickly falling to rage. He spotted the attacker. His hurt mind realized the scenario. The explosions accidentally spared one monster. _Snap!_ Roy saw to it that this creature went up in flames. After this dispatch, Roy dealt with the consequences. Everything else vanished from his mind, along with emotion. Elysia seemed to be moving, but that wasn't enough for him. He thought up a horrible image: Another Hughes in the morgue? Not again. _Not again! _Near insane, Roy felt the child's warm body. He saw no blood or damage. His eye fell on her bag, seeing it as his only hope. He found a hole. A book nailed by a bullet.

He tensely shot at Elysia's rising head, grabbing her shoulders. "You stupid fool! Don't ever do that to me again!"

Elysia looked ready to cry again. "I won'."

Roy forgot himself. He will give another apology later. Right now he embraced the child. A smile grew on his lips. A second of that, the two arose and resumed their trip among the fire, ashes, and heat. Before they reached the end of the park, a car charged and stopped in front of them. Lieutenant Ross came out of it.

"Maria!" Elysia changed from wary to happy.

The driver was equally glad. "Sir, I've come to pick you two up."

"Long time no see," Roy hastily responded, putting Elysia onto the car floor. "Stay there," he took no chances pressing her protection. "Lieutenant Ross, get us to Central Command immediately."

"Will do." The car now moved, in an unclear motion of shakes, sharp turns, and bumps.

"What 'bout my mommy?" Elysia popped her head out, Roy pushing it back down.

"She's safe, Elysia," Ross answered, her cool stance failing to hide a maternal tone.

"Where is she?" Roy pressed the girl's questioning.

"At Central Command." Ross turned reluctant. "She's asleep."

"What?"

Ross cringed her head. "She was there when the invasion started. She told me about you two. So I offered to get you. Mrs. Hughes wanted to go. I had to take action against it." Her firm words wavered with remorse. "As tough a woman Mrs. Hughes is, she isn't a soldier. I'm sorry, Elysia, but I owe it to your father to keep his family safe."

Roy heard this kindred devotion. Maes Hughes was a special man to many people.

The ride flowed with physical trials and extreme excitement. Ross stepped on the air pedal. Roy peeked from the windows. The car charged thru smoke and rubble.

"Uh oh!" Ross spoke the magical incantation for trouble. From an upcoming corner, more monsters were appearing.

"Pass through!" Roy commanded.

Ross was silent.

"Just do as I say!"

Ross grunted and increased speed. By the time the car reached the face of the enemy, Roy swung his arm out the window. _Snap!_ The small fires nearby grew large and swallowed the monsters in red. If there was any ill feeling about destroying these things, Roy suppressed it. He was a soldier defending the city.

Ross did not turn her head, but she got the message. "You got your Alchemy back!"

"You bet!"

Finally, the rear end of Central Command broke into view. From what Roy could see, a wall of sandbags blocked the way.

"Brace yourselves!" Ross increased the car's speed. Roy bowed over Elysia on the floor. They felt an extreme shake, a rise, and an impact.

"We're through!"

The ride came to its halt. Ross and Roy got out first to check on any enemy fire. Ross raised her gun in guard. Roy pulled Elysia out of the car. Officers surrounded them; some startled by the new visitor. "Colonel Mustang?"

"Corporal," Roy corrected, carrying the child to the building. He held her as he watched the place in chaos. Not a room was empty or uncluttered. Soldiers passed him, bearing their rifles to go out to fight or carrying the wounded. The building also showed its wounds. Cracks were everywhere. To his shock, the Fuhrer's old office had been completely leveled, blocking one entry into the underground city. He would have to use the other passage reported by the Brothers Tringham.

"Elysia!"

Roy paused at that very conscious call. Gracia ran to their presence. She looked a little shaken, but otherwise well. Mother embraced her daughter and Roy. Unease had the latter let go, leaving the familial two in their emotional embrace. "Mommy! Unca Roy saved me!"

"Of course he did!" Gracia showed her faith.

Roy was somewhat glad. Definitely for Elysia if not for himself. The dangers outside were of lesser force than meeting Gracia again.

Gracia appeared just as nervous. "Hi." She greeted slowly.

Roy kept silent in his confusion. A lot has happened today: this reunion, the restoration of his Alchemy, this invasion. He left Gracia to do the responding. "Thank you, Roy."

Roy avoided his reluctance enough to nod at this gratitude. He turned to a more comfortable alternative. Of the soldiers gathered, of those he recognized, none were his own. "Where's my old group?"

Lieutenant Dennis Bloch gave that answer. "At the front grounds."

Roy's destination was determined. His respect for his former subordinates' abilities was definitely founded, but his concern was present as well. "They'll die without me," he said in a half-concerned, half-mocking tone. He turned to Bloch. "Lieutenant Bloch," Roy made a command. "Give me your coat."

Bloch was startled.

"I am not saving the city in these rags!" Roy stated his case, showing his dirty and tattered coat.

Bloch complied with a frown. As his coat was replaced, Roy noticed Gracia and Elysia looking amazed, the latter more so.

"You've really come back," the more experienced Gracia smiled with pride.

Roy smirked. Things were indeed looking up. Corny the phrase was, he will now use his power for good. Orders be damned!

Roy was handed a helmet. He refused it, brushing his hair. "Give it to Elysia." As this was obeyed, Roy came closer to the girl as well. "Elysia," he firmly asked. "You stay with your mother."

Elysia's face slid in disappointment. "You're gonna go 'way again?"

Roy showed nothing on his own face. "This time I have to. Your father would have done the same thing."

But such information made Elysia grow sadder.

"But I'll be back. I promise."

Elysia sighed. But she did not turn away, nor did she hug Roy. Instead, she gave a salute. Roy fought against commenting such a cute moment. He saluted back, and turned away.

The Flame Alchemist ran to the front blockade. His steps slowed to a march. His eye saw monsters crashing off the building. At the sandbag blockade he recognized important faces under helmets. Riza must be around here. The only non-uniformed one was the resigned Major Armstrong, using his own Alchemy to defend the city. Roy didn't like having his thunder stolen. Still, it was like a family reunion, and him without a gun. Well, no time for the dewy-eyed nostalgia. Time for him to come to the rescue!

A wave of the enemy was coming up. _Snap!  
_

* * *

To be continued 


	6. A Calm Fire

Unca Roy

Chapter 6: A Calm Fire

By Claudius

* * *

Roy awoke with a snap. As blurriness left his one vision, the recovery of consciousness began. He realized it was just another strange dream. Back to reality, and this room he lived and slept in. He saw the sheet that covered himself, except for his bandaged arm and leg. Next to him was a huge lump: His bed partner. Roy patted the female lying underneath. "Get up!" He spoke dispassionately.

The lump slowly moved. A beautiful head popped out, sleepy and happy. She lay upon the bed, stretching in her nightgown.

"Mornin', Unca Roy." Elysia greeted him.

"Good morning." Roy returned the greeting. The girl came in during the night, asking if she could stay with him. Roy didn't mind sharing his bed with her. Better than some of the other ladies he slept with.

Elysia got out of the bed, rubbing her disheveled hair. She strode out of the room. Roy, being about twenty-five years older and injured, got out more slowly. He sat up with care, but not without strain. As usual, his body made several _twings_. He might as well be a glutton for agony. In three years he had sustained enough injuries that a regular man got in a lifetime. Most recent for him: a damaged arm in a sling and a cast on his foot. Add to that a bandaged head and the bruises underneath his canary bird pajamas.

Grabbing a cane, Roy hobbled into the hallway to the bathroom. Two young men appeared. Cadets. Their presence met his, with the latter overwhelming them. They went silent, posturing themselves for a salute. "Morning sir!" They shared the same greeting, with eyes glittering in awe. "Adies, men," Roy nodded. He liked amazing his fellow soldiers. He limped past them to the bathroom door, his ears noting their whispers of praise. He looked back at them with an interest bordering on nostalgia. Young men, and the best of friends...

Roy entered the bathroom. First he removed his arm from the sling. Painful but capable. Then he unbuttoned his shirt. The removal saw to his self-reflection at the mirror. Not with much flattery. Surrounded by black-and-blue bruises was a scar on his bare chest. Bradley's work. That Homunculus' legacy still lived on like some leprosy. Only now Roy was beginning to live in spite of it.

Everything else seemed fine…if one called flab _fine_. His waist had grown some, striking him with a near-trauma. Life is so unfair. With a mourning sigh Roy removed his pajamas. That was simple. He turned on the shower. So far, so good. Then he dropped the cane. He tried to grab it. Bending his leg made careful beginnings turn to calamity. Balance vanished, leading the man to the floor. The banging impact was a comfort compared to the blow to his ego. "Damn!"

He heard a cry from the hall. "Unca Roy?" From behind the door, Elysia had come to the rescue (of sorts).

"I've fallen," Roy exclaimed, before realizing his mistake.

"I'll get mom!"

That confirmed his error. "No!" Roy cried to no avail. "I can get up myself." He tried. He failed. Now it meant Gracia's help. Something not wanted. But how would he get up, if not by her? Roy grabbed the towel and planted it over his privates.

The door clicked and opened, revealing a key-wielding Gracia. She paused, and sighed like a mother seeing a child at it again.

"It's not what you think," Roy tried a dignified face.

"Don't worry, Roy," said Gracia. "I've seen you naked a couple times," Her attempt to soften the situation did not work. She knelt down and touched him. Roy stirred by this contact, not in pain.

"Nothing more seems to be broken." Gracia's prognosis was almost a jest. She embraced his unclad form, pulling him to a sitting position. Then she slung his good arm over herself, pulling him up. Roy greeted his unease with an ascent of groans.

"Same old Roy," Gracia slurred. "Always wanting to be on top."

"Very funny," Roy replied to his host. He had been living at Gracia's house for a week. The woman had made it a boarding house for cadets. Elysia's whining persuaded him to take the lodgings as well. Though accepting, Roy had some reservations. One thing was memories of his last stay here. Before Elysia's birth, her father Maes was a rather raunchy host! Roy could have blinded himself watching his friend greet him in nothing but a cap hiding his manhood! Not to mention the nights hearing the couple make noises in the other room. It was a wonder the Hughes family didn't have more children...

Roy quickly caught himself in this thought. His memory of his namesake, and the terrible thing Maes asked of him. Anyway, adding to his reservations was his sensitivity with Gracia. Her touch felt comfortable, which made things really uncomfortable.

"Have you gained weight?"

Roy rolled his eyes. He now sat on the tub, with Gracia next to him. Their eyes locked, very still, with a loss of ease and words. Gracia broke it. She gave him his cane. "I think…you'll be alright now."

Roy took her support. "Yes...I can manage." Emotionally speaking, it was the type of situation where two people would end up kissing and all other sorts of naughtiness, but it wasn't the moment for them. Probably never will be.

Gracia jerked her head away, asserting herself. "Sorry to deflate the ego, if you think good looks and a nice body are supposed to stun me. Maes had bigger pecs and a much bigger…you know."

Roy's reaction was not insulting. "I find that hard to believe. Didn't you once laugh when Maes first showed you his..._you know_?" He closed his words with mockery.

Gracia made a crooked smile.

"Yes, Maes told me that." Roy grew some confidence.

But the woman's renewed smirk showed recovery. "If that was true, explain Elysia?" She began to turn away to the sink. "How's the wound?"

"I barely feel it." Roy fingered the scar on his pectoral.

Gracia continued her avoidance of his direction. "Good. You have worse to feel. Why do you men always have to get hurt so much?" She quickly left the room. Roy absorbed the meaning of those words.

Elysia came running back. She leaned against the door, nervous. "Are ya alright?"

Roy made a secure nod. It appeared Elysia had more familiarity to him in his injuries than his healthier days!

The girl walked closer. "You have a funny picture like daddy."

Roy looked at his arm and its green dragon tattoo. "Yes…of course," He blushed. The blemish had taken a more precious meaning nowadays. "Your father and I got one at the same time."

Elysia continued her prognosis. "You don't have as many marks as daddy."

"Well," Roy came to the best reflection. "I wasn't as lucky as he was." He always liked being eye candy to a beautiful lady. He patted Elysia's shoulder. "You get to breakfast. I have to take a shower."

With a coy smile, Elysia left the room. Roy removed the easy face and fell to the smarts and exhaustion of his condition. He sat in the tub before the shower's onslaught. Feeling the water spray onto his body made the pain melt away. The ease brought him back to the source. It was the end of the invasion; he and the Elric Brothers were on one of the flying crafts that attacked the city. Fullmetal cut off the wing where he and Alphonse stood. He had decided that he alone must return to the different world of the invaders. Then he will seal the gate between the two worlds, subsequently sacrificing his existence here. This came much to Alphonse's distress, enough for Roy to take action. He had seen enough brothers and friends separated by his mistakes. So the Flame Alchemist helped boost Al to join his brother on his course.

Roy watched the Brothers Elric leave his sight forever. A sad but victorious farewell. But in his achievement of giving a happy ending for someone, Roy realized he sacrificed his own. Without Alphonse's broader Alchemy powers, how was he going to change this falling wing? The answer was he could not, which is why Roy suffered his new injuries. Oh well, better than the last times...

* * *

Cleaned and dressed, Roy returned to his room. He dressed in shirt and blue military pants. Today was going to be an important day. He bore his coat on his good arm as he hobbled down to the dining room. He had missed much of breakfast. Only Winry and Elysia remained. The two watched his entrance.

"Good morning Winry," Roy greeted her confidently, hiding his awkwardness.

Winry nodded with a smile. To the newcomer, she was doing a good act for someone who lost her would-be boyfriend and best friend. She also had been staying here, being a sister for Elysia. Indeed, she made a sweet face to her little 'sister' and her attempts at attention. She didn't fool Roy though. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Better," Roy felt the question was preferable for her. He learned that she will miss the brothers. But she knew Edward would forever treasure the automail she gave him. With Edward being alive and well, Winry stated, she could put her mind at rest. Nice resolution, Roy thought. She lived these two years better than Alphonse and himself. And still suffered as much. He had done so much to Winry. Stripped her of everyone she loved…

Enough with the guilt, Roy! The man yelled within himself. If this keeps up, you'll be mourning the little bugs you stepped on!

Then again, Roy still believed he killed both these girls' fathers, especially Elysia's. He had done so no matter the passage of years, the gadzillion times he rationalized Hughes' stubbornness and willingness to help him, and his statements that he felt guilty no longer. Nothing he could do to escape his crimes. The best he could do is not border on the ridiculous.

"I'll tell mom you're here!" Elysia got out of her seat and ran into the kitchen.

Lacking her 'little sister's' support, Winry's face fell a little sadder. But Roy saw no hostility.

"There's really nothing to be said," Winry crinkled. "Besides, I would be hurting my little sister." An agreeable smile grew on her lips. "She told me that you didn't mean to make her father go away."

Roy closed his eye in humility.

"She doesn't blame you. So I won't."

Roy arose his head. He bowed to the exceptional young woman. "I am ever in your service, Miss Rockbell. Even when you leave."

Elysia entered the room at this moment. Roy closed his mouth, too late. Elysia dimmed at the prospect that Winry would be returning to Resembool tomorrow (personally escorted by Alex Armstrong). "Can I still visit ya?" She asked with hope.

"Sure!" Winry shattered any pessimism with an embrace. "You're always welcome."

Elysia decided to share the invitation. "Unca Roy too?"

Winry suddenly stared at Roy, wavering his optimism. Suddenly she snickered, breaking this glare and some of his unease. "Yes, Uncle Roy too. Maybe we can lighten him up!"

After a laugh, Winry left the table. Elysia remained, watching Roy with a curious intention. He could predict the next response a mile away. "Not now."

"Please..." Elysia's eyes sparkled. She smiled her father's grin.

It brought Roy to surrender. "Oh, all right." He took out his glove. As before, Elysia helped him put it on. With a snap of his finger, out flickered a flame.

"Wowie!" Elysia cooed at the flicker with hypnotized eyes. She clapped her hands in delight. "Can ya teach me that?"

Roy's smile curved to a frown. "Elysia," he lowered his voice to a strong tone. "Alchemy is not a toy."

Elysia gasped. When Roy was very serious, it was really important. She quickly nodded to this information. "Sorry."

"That's enough," Gracia urged further limits. "Elysia, let Roy have his breakfast. Go see to Winry."

Elysia moped. Roy touched her shoulder with a gentleness contradicting his earlier sulk. "Go do what your mother says."

With a smile, the child left. He then turned to Gracia and her discomfort. He knew she had ill feelings about Alchemy. Much of this stemmed from the death of Nina Tucker, a victim of her mad father's use of the art. Gracia believed Shou Tucker was executed. Roy decided to sustain that belief. Not so easy to curtail was the fact that Alchemy created the Homunculus...

But rather than browbeat him, Gracia gave Roy a plate. "I hope Elysia hasn't bothered you too much," She apologized.

"Don't worry." Roy relaxed. "It's her revenge for my not being around."

"And are you…going away again?" said Gracia, as mobile as a statue.

Roy took a serious air. "One of the reasons I left was out of fear. That my presence will bring trouble to the people I care about."

Gracia heard and understood.

"I found out that harm would come regardless. So, between staying around and seeing people get hurt, or stay away, and getting them hurt anyway, I choose the former." He smiled. "At least I can _try_ to do something."

Gracia smiled. Then came a nervous outburst. "You can stay as long as you like…" She kept wavering her words. "I mean, you still have to pay rent, but I won't throw you out if you're late…For Elysia…I've done it for others."

Roy read her intentions, as uncertain as she. "Thank you."

"I-I have to go to the kitchen." Gracia excused herself.

Roy remained and ate his breakfast. No one made home fries and eggs like Mrs. Hughes. It made him even tenser. He squeezed his cane handle, raising it and lowering it. Action is his to make! What was he so afraid of? He is Roy Mustang! Gracia is his best friend's widow. That is it. Roy pulled himself up. He went to the kitchen. It was empty. He heard footsteps at the stairs. He followed with erupting courage. There stood Gracia, at the linen closet. He had to speak. "Gracia…"

"Yes?" Gracia opened the closet. Suddenly, a small yellow blanket tumbled out. Roy just noticed. Gracia, however, stared at the cloth. A trance came over her. She slowly knelt before the cloth, touching it like some holy relic.

"Dr. Holtz wrapped Elysia in this when she was born," She caressed the blanket on her cheek. "I wanted to use it for Roy…" She cut her words short, feeling the blanket instead. Roy watched and understood. There was very little to be said about the Hughes' second child, the stillborn son named after him.

Gracia released the cloth from her face, folding it up with a rising level of acceptance. "Dr. Holtz died a year ago. I'm now the only one still here who saw Elysia's birth."

Gracia's moment brought such sympathies in Roy. It struck him with Edward's personal words to him. In the short space between the end of the invasion and his goodbye, Fullmetal revealed something: "Hughes' murderer is dead." The closure failed to affect Roy. It didn't matter anymore. He shouldn't say it now. He wanted to comfort Gracia, to hold her…

Roy recoiled from any physical contact. The courage he summoned withered away. This is his best friend's widow! He just wanted to talk to her…that is…that is what he thought he was going to do…

Roy left Gracia to her sadness, heading back downstairs. He better reserve his sympathy else a lot of hearts might be broken.

There came a knock at the door. Roy limped to answer it. His regret came too late.

"Good morning, Corporal," said Riza. She wore civilian clothes, meaning a mini-skirt bearing her fine calves.

Slightly stunned, Roy saluted back. "Morning, Lieutenant."

"I've got news about the ceremony this afternoon."

"Please," Roy allowed it. The government was going to award him a medal for what everyone called the Battle of Central. Roy's marshaling the forces had turned the tide, stopping the invaders from bringing more bloodshed to the city. It was nothing, Roy considered.

Riza reported where the ceremony was to be held, who will be present, and who would be the personal giver. Roy heard, but listening was a different story. Riza got his attention, and the mixed meanings concerning it that played wild with his thoughts. Two years ago, he wouldn't think seriously of any woman except Riza. All he had to seriously show for it was a one-night stand, a separation, and fighting alien invaders.

Yes, Roy felt hesitant about resuming the relationship. The passage of time did not cool his feelings. But things had also developed in different ways. Gracia had come into the equation. And what addition did that mean? Gracia was a nice woman, not as gorgeous as Riza, but a more remarkable one than he realized. She deserved Maes' love, deserved all the happiness. More than she got, though. More then he gave her, Roy surmised. Back in the school days he belittled Gracia and her ability to wrap Hughes around her little finger. She also had a strong disdain for men, which she fortunately mellowed. He meant _fortunately_, for after the war she welcomed him warmly and most of all, unconditionally. She still did.

And he nearly wrecked it by putting some moves on her a year ago. Just like he hurt Riza by leaving. What a change! Before this, fooling around with ladies was a habit. Now doing so much as joke about these two ladies tore his heart. Thus, Roy had to abstain from a relationship right now. Putting too many hearts in the basket…

"Roy?"

"I'm hearing you," Roy made a save.

Riza wasn't so sure, but she did little about it. "Grandfather asked me again about your future plans."

Roy gave a silence, as ever uncertain about this oft-said request.

"There is still the matter of the giant gate underneath the underground city."

Roy knew that too well. The source of the invasion, it needed to be sealed as he promised Alphonse. Unfortunately, finding a way to close that vortex will also take some time.

"Once I'm recovered, I'll deal with that personally."

"As well as other things?" Riza attempted some encouragement. "Some are willing to support you if you take Parliament."

"I've accepted a post here, Riza." Roy answered. "Nothing more."

Riza kept a stoic face. "You have them at an advantage. Some praise you. Others fear you."

"Then let them," Roy struck with that answer. "I'm not their military dog anymore, to kill for their benefit. I'll serve the country but not as their slave."

Riza barely contained a smile there. "Very well, sir," She saluted. "I will see you at Central Command. Say hi to Elysia for me."

Roy nodded. The way the woman departed took his breath away. And she did imply a point about his resolve. Did he come back to Central just to do little? A lot was needed. Roy saw the evidence of that at the window. The cracked glass revealed a similar state outside. The street roads suffered from potholes and cracks. Although the Hughes' house sustained minor damages, that was the exception, with other ruined houses and buildings remaining vacant (unless there were still inhabitants living in the ruins). Central had seen better days. For this soldier, the carnage hurt as much as his physical injuries. Elysia was only disappointed that Aunt Riza couldn't take her out horse riding. Otherwise, the survival of all her friends, her mother, and her aunts and uncles made the damaged city trivial to her young mind. Blessed are the young. The adults had the burden. Thousands were killed, many homeless. Roy couldn't blame his native city for deserving this destruction. Would that monster Bradley have cared? He sure wouldn't like the irony: Ishbal and Liore offered help to the city, in gratitude for the repairs done for their cities (The Armstrong Foundation will have a field day with this one!).

Such a truth showed the better days. For despite his guilt, Roy felt it was somehow beneficial. It was as if this disaster served to destroy any lingering damages of the Homunculus. A new Central will grow from these ruins. It had to be.

But idealism did not blind the Flame Alchemist to reality. Bradley may be gone, but greed and the lust for power still existed even before the Homunculus. A democracy was a step up for Central, but not a complete answer. A leader was needed to maintain that stability. Should he take it? No. He killed Bradley. Not for the good of the world, but for his own selfish grief-stricken rage. He was no longer material for a good leader. No, that future was sealed away permanently. Unlike his alchemy, his old goal could have no resurrection.

So, did this mean another miserable chapter in his life? Truth be told, Roy felt strangely at ease. That was a new feeling. Romantic problems or not, he was contented. How can he explain it? He felt happy. He got his Alchemy back, rescued the nation from invaders, protected the innocent, saved his best friend's daughter, and reunited two brothers. Now he was going to get a medal for it. Life began at thirty-two!

* * *

Many hours later, Roy reached Central Command. In a small room with a mirror, he looked at himself. No preening or self-loathing at the mirror today. Roy just wore his regular uniform. No medals or sashes or swords. He was tired of the pomp and circumstance. No, that wasn't really true. He was more impatient for the mediocre and corrupt underbelly hidden beneath the dazzle and satin. Case in point: Lieutenant General Hakuro. Roy never liked the man; Hakuro was more a kiss-ass military dog than he could ever pretend to be. Not a corrupt official like Archer, but hardly one who would do the right thing. He never forgave Roy for killing the Fuhrer. In fact, he was one of the major prosecutors in his court-martial for rebelling against Bradley. Roy's subsequent escape from a harsh charge (and lack of evidence) was a hit for the superior officer. But he had another grudge. Since the Parliament had taken over, Hakuro lost his chance of becoming the Fuhrer's successor (which could never happen in the first place, unless he joined the Homunculus club). Much to Roy's glee, Hakuro would be the one personally awarding him. Nice to use the thumb screws on someone else for a change.

Roy's soliloquy got interrupted. "Here she is!" Gracia presented Elysia from a door. The girl strolled around in her blue dress. Roy was enchanted. He grabbed the child into his arms. At least he had one girl he had no problem loving.

"Am I pwetty?" Elysia asked.

"You sure are," Roy planted Elysia back to her feet. As dazzled by the child's appearance, Roy found Gracia equally fascinating. Mrs. Hughes wore a white blouse, blue skirt and coat. Not an attractive image for anyone looking for a date, but Roy found her the opposite.

"Is there something wrong?" Gracia turned to the mirror.

"Nothing," Roy saved face.

Gracia grew concerned. "Can't say the same about you." Roy became helpless to Gracia's advance to him. She began to reposition his coat, brushing off some dandruff or fuzz on his shoulders. "How you got this far without a wife I'll never know."

The words brought a tense sensation over Roy.

"He doesn't need a wife," Riza made her appearance. Her presence smashed whatever moment could be had. The two stared at the Lieutenant in embarrassment, which was hidden very well.

"I was just tucking in the coat," Gracia smiled.

"Nothing wrong with that," Roy almost yelped his answer.

Riza outdid them both with her moderated emotion, somewhat chilled.

Gracia quickly darted to the door. "Come on, Elysia!" She pulled the girl into the hall.

Nothing was said. Riza then did her own touches on Roy's clothes.

* * *

In the hallway, Elysia saw her mommy lean against the wall, looking sad.

"What's wong?" The girl tucked her mother's sleeve.

"Mommy was thinking about your father, and Roy."

Elysia didn't understand her mother's sadness. Unca Roy was getting a reward for saving the city. And she saw him doing it! The man is a hero. Elysia thought she saw everything of this man. But on that scary day, when he saved the city, was the biggest surprise to her. Did he have more good things she could learn about him?

There came a voice from another room. "Well, guess Roy gets his recognition."

Elysia heard and knew that voice. It was Unca Jean. She looked closer to the door next to her. Mommy won't mind, since she could still see her.

The girl peeked into the room. Unca Jean was there. He was smoking a cigarette. As far as the little girl can remember, he never smoked in front of her. He said that daddy told him never to smoke in front of her (Unca Jean looked very funny when he told her that).

He stood with Unca Fuery and two strangers. They talked about Roy!

"As usual, Roy gets the acclaim…" said Unca Fuery, looking very mad about it. It made Elysia feel mad. She thought he liked Unca Roy.

Soon Elysia heard the name _General Hughes_. That was her daddy! They were talking about her daddy!

* * *

Jean Havoc decided to derail the discussion on Roy. Fuery really needed to let it go. So he talked about Maes Hughes instead. Indeed, his conversation set Officer Saltz reminiscing.

"He was always bugging us with a picture of his girl. Most of the time he talked about his little girl." He sighed. "How that man became a Lieutenant Colonel, I'll never know."

"You were fooled like the rest of them." Havoc threw some truth. This got Saltz's attention.

Havoc's cigarette rose in confidence. "The real Maes Hughes was a skilled fighter, as tough as nails. He just pretended to do all that 'Oh isn't this picture of my daughter beautiful?' stuff. The guy was a real actor. I bet he'd been a hit on stage."

Officer Lantz snickered. "I always thought that 'beloved father' thing was a fake. No one could be really like that."

"Who wants kids?" cried Saltz. _"Isn't my daughter pwetty?"_ He mocked Havoc's line with a more artificial flair, followed by laughter.

Havoc's cigarette drooped. "Um, that's not what I meant…" His protest over misinterpretation was drowned out by the men's laughter. He looked to Fuery, looking just as uncomfortable. "Now wait just a minute!"

Havoc's protest was cut off by a female officer's abrupt entrance. "What happened?" She demanded.

Her figure brought a smile to the smoking Lieutenant. "Yes?"

The woman had no time for flirtations. "I saw a little girl run past me in tears."

Havoc's romantic grin lost its energy. He tempted a risk that could be coincidence. "Did she have brown hair and pigtails?"

The officer's nod ended that hope. Havoc's cigarette dropped from his mouth. "Oh shit!"

* * *

Roy limped at the backstage. Riza stood at the door. Everyone in his circle had given their congratulations, save for two people. The now-civilian Alex Armstrong was juggling time here and at Resembool with Rose. Lieutenant Kain Fuery was also missing. Roy knew his work at the Parliament was busy for a young officer, but that wasn't a satisfying reason for his absence.

He entered the backstage, peeking at the army of inhabitants. He spotted Winry and Schiezska. No sign of Gracia and Elysia though. The rest were the cream of this military. Hmph. These jackasses who clearly haven't a thought if put together.

Roy then spotted Fuery; he seemed to be looking for someone. "Lieutenant Fuery!"

Fuery saluted him. Not in the modest, nervous behavior that was his characteristic. Just a simple, cold salute.

Roy was struck at this distance. He was about to speak.

"Roy!" Havoc and Falman entered. Looking very concerned.

"What is the matter?" Roy asked.

"Elysia's gone missing."

Roy felt like he was stunned. "Where's her mother?"

Seeing no answer on their faces, Roy took strict command. "Find her." He limped off the backstage.

"But what about the ceremony?" An officer asked.

Before Roy could confess, Riza spoke for him. "Not without Elysia."

Roy turned to Havoc. "Lieutenant, where did you see her last?"

"She heard us talking." Havoc rubbed his head, ashamed. "We talked about Hughes, about how he pretended to act like the doting daddy…"

Roy heard enough, growling his only response. Stupid! As if Elysia really needed more heartbreak, especially when this was so mistaken. "I'll find her."

"_We'll_ find her," Fuery interrupted.

"Thanks," Roy appreciated the help.

"No bother." Fuery went even less warm. "You only saw Elysia for a few weeks. We hung around her for two years, always hearing her yearn for you."

Confusion alerted Roy with a slow understanding. "…As she should. You don't know what it's like to lose a parent at an early age."

"Yes," Fuery continued his frozen words. "But I certainly know how it feels to lose someone I looked up to."

Roy's keen eye fell on this most uncharacteristic delivery. Fuery looked ready to attack. "Bradley wasn't the only one unworthy of loyalty."

"Fuery…" Falman whispered for moderation. It gave Roy realization that this was not a new occurrence.

Indeed, Fuery's outburst was like a grenade exploding. "We followed you, Mustang. We would have died for you. We almost did at that siege. When you recovered, we thought we could change Amestris for the better. Instead you left. You abandoned us!"

"Fuery!" Riza's entry call was more powerful. It stopped the young man, though he kept his grimace. Riza advanced to him. "That is..."

"Completely true." Roy finished the accusation. Betrayal and guilt flowed in equal amounts. "But Elysia's well being is more important than this."

Fuery kept his frown. He was not finished or satisfied. But he obeyed.

Roy left a glance at Fuery's negative expression. Then he went to the priority at hand. He considered all the possibilities. Where would Elysia go? "I think I know."

"I'll follow," Riza demanded. Roy accepted that. "The rest of you stay here in case she comes to you."

"Yes, sir," said his former subordinates.

* * *

As the two moved to the desired place, Roy lingered on Fuery's lashing accusation. Another person he disappointed. Harsh truths needed to be faced. "Riza…did you resent my leaving?"

"No," Riza calmly answered. "But do it again and I'll shoot you."

Roy gave no answer to that warning. Nor was there an answer that dealt with her. Roy pressed his thoughts for Elysia. Soon he limped to the East Wing of Command, the Office of the Court Martial Investigations Division. As he came to the office once held by his friend, Roy heard Gracia's voice. And there on the bench near the door was the woman with her daughter! Elysia hugged her mother deeply.

"Elysia!" Roy cried to the girl. She took notice, than turned her head closer to her mother. This sight distressed him.

"I'm sorry," Gracia apologized. "Elysia ran all the way here. She's very distraught."

"Mommy an' me saw daddy here," Elysia's calm voice tempered. "He was so happy when he saw me…" Water appeared on her eyes, but tears were restrained. It was a remarkable trait of strength to admire. Roy remembered his own fortitude in his childhood, refusing to weep. But not everyone was like himself. Probably shouldn't be.

"She heard Havoc talk about Maes." Gracia looked rather grim.

"Don't worry," Roy took a dire air. "I'll kill him." He had some sincerity in that remark.

"Please don't." Elysia squealed.

Reserving himself, Roy got closer. "What did he say?"

"That daddy didn't love me."

"Elysia, that's not true." Gracia soothed her daughter as best she could.

Roy's eyes bloomed, the only sign of reaction. "Did he really say that?"

Elysia bowed with doubt. "No. But he say Daddy pwetended to act like he did, showing them pictures of me and always talking about me."

"Oh," Roy nodded in understanding. "So you think that means your father only pretended to love you?"

Elysia's sorrowful face showed the accuracy of his question. "Is it twue?" Her own query was as desperate as a child could be.

Roy was not quick for an answer. His hesitance only made the girl grow sadder. It was an awkward question. How to explain things to a six-year-old child, even one as bright as Elysia, without her misunderstanding? He sighed.

It shocked Elysia.

"Stop," Roy demanded with a serious tone. "Hold it, Elysia, I want you to listen to me. Promise me you will wait until I am done talking. Then you make up your mind. Can you do that for me?"

Elysia paused with her sad face, than she nodded. Gracia looked on with understanding.

Roy shared the bench with them. He thought for a moment on the best words, than he began casually. "Your father pretended a lot. For a while he lived that way. He found it hard to express himself. When he was little, his dad- your grandfather- had a weak heart. To make that heart feel better, your father always smiled and acted like nothing was wrong. That became a habit. No matter how sad or hurt he was, he always put on a happy face."

Elysia felt a bigger hug from her mother. "It became armor to him." Gracia continued. "A lot of bad things happened to your father. Acting happy became a mask, a defense…to protect him from getting hurt. It kept him from getting too close."

"Until your mother came," Roy interrupted, pointing his eye at Gracia. "She loved your father, and he loved her." Man and Woman smiled at that real truth. "She broke through his happy face. Forced him to stop pretending. By the time you were born, he became happy for real."

Roy made his speech without a glitch, despite the content of his words. Was he really saying all this sappy stuff? Anyway... "Later on, I needed your father's help. It was a secret. In order to keep it a secret, your father had to find a way to avoid getting anyone's attention. So he fooled people with the happy face. Thus came the obsessive parent always bugging people about you. He fooled a lot of people. Only your mother, Aunt Riza, and your uncles…" Roy pointed to himself, "knew the truth."

Elysia sighed.

"But he never lied to you. The boy who hid his feelings with a happy face and the father who loved you were two different people. Just like a boy is different from a man." Now came the finish clincher! "Maes Hughes never pretended to be my best friend, he never pretended to love your mother, and he sure never pretended to love you."

"Weally?" Elysia's response was a whisper.

"Yes. I've…hurt you." Roy dealt with his own failings. "I'm sorry. But I could never lie to you about this. I owe your father too much to do that."

But Elysia remained sad. "I miss daddy." That was the hundredth time she said that sentence. Roy sighed, putting his good arm around Elysia. As hard as he tried, nothing will fill that void of her dead father. Perhaps it was justified. It would be a crime to forget Maes Hughes. The best thing Roy could do is make Elysia deal with the loss and live.

"Me too." Roy and Gracia practically spoke in synch. Gracia kissed her daughter.

Roy sighed, and looked to a new direction. He slowly arose to his feet.

"It's going to be all right, Roy." Gracia accepted. "You'll be late for your ceremony."

Roy boorishly waved his bandaged arm. "Forget it. I think it's a good time for ice cream! Don't you agree, Riza?"

Riza smiled. "As you wish, sir."

Elysia perked up, breaking from her mother.

"But what about your medal?" Gracia asked.

"I'll still get it," Roy shrugged. "Ceremonies are boring anyway." He would have given out his hand to Elysia, if only both weren't already occupied. Riza walked over and did that honor for him. At least the bond forged in that bedroom two years ago remained unbroken and forever. "So what's the flavor?"

"Strawberry and banana!" Elysia squealed.

"I should've guessed." Roy smiled. "Let's get the rest of the gang." Man, child, and two women began their search. The man of the group really didn't care about the ceremony. Screw Hakuro and medals! He had done enough kissing military ass than his soul can handle. Right now he had a family. Through their help he was able to rebuild himself. Now was the time to rebuild this city, and his relationships. Like a phoenix, which is, after all, a bird of flame.

* * *

I may consider closing this story with this chapter. I might do some drabbles, but otherwise I think I've written what I wanted to write. Thank you for your reviews!


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